


Haze

by AgentRaichu



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Porn, Artist Steve Rogers, Blow Jobs, Child Abuse, Dom/sub, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Is Poly Because Avengers, Everyone Needs A Hug, Feels, Forced Prostitution, Gen, Hurt Steve, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Mutual Pining, OT6, Oblivious Steve Rogers, Oblivious Tony Stark, Oral Sex, Original Character(s), Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Physical Abuse, Pining, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Protective Steve, Rimming, Self-Destruction, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Sexual Abuse, Steve Angst, Steve Feels, Steve Has Issues, Steve Needs a Hug, Steve Rogers Feels, Sub Steve, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Team Bonding, Team Dynamics, Team Feels, Team as Family, Torture, Underage Prostitution, Verbal Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-07 12:54:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 93,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5457212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentRaichu/pseuds/AgentRaichu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve was in a haze. </p><p> So what if he turned to questionable methods to feel less numb? So what if he hadn’t wanted to wake up after he crashed that damn plane?? So <em>what</em> if he was nothing but a cracked, overused shield???</p><p> It was fine!</p><p>…except when it wasn’t, and for once, Steve couldn’t fix that.</p><p> Not alone. </p><p><strong><em>WARNING:</em>This story will contain self-harm, flashbacks, suicidal thoughts and tendencies, and talk of such. It will also contain panic attacks, anxiety, nightmares describing past rape or abuse, and quite possibly torture at some point. :</strong> If any of this triggers you, DO NOT read this!! I will not be interrupting the story to warn when the triggering scenes start and stop.</p><p>(In case I ever forget to in a chapter, all credit to the artists for any song lyrics I use!!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fog

**Author's Note:**

> J: Oh man… I’ve been reading so much Steve angst lately… and this just happened. I started writing and it just flowed.  
> This is not a happy story, people...it's going to be full of struggle, hard earned progress, and setbacks. But, it will also contain family, caring, love, and the team sticking together through whatever is thrown at them.

Steve was in a haze.

He could almost recall a time when the world was clear and crisp. But the memory eluded him as if he were trying to pick up water. He got a taste, just a brief sensation of the cool, refreshing purity. But it slipped from him, leaving only a remnant that soon evaporated. 

The haze had settled in like fog. 

A hint of the blur, and Steve thought _oh, no biggie. Just a bit of fog. Not even enough to restrict vision_. But then he’d gone to sleep and woken one morning― his mother yelling out a goodbye as she headed out for a double shift at the hospital― and the fog had fallen overnight. Just like that. 

Suddenly he could barely see. Things were distant. Emotions, events, memories, even physical pain. The aches of the flu he’d caught despite Bucky’s warnings of being outside in the cold, even those felt distant. His care seemed to have left. Eloped, perhaps, with his hope. 

Then his mom had died.

The woman who’d loved him unconditionally. Who’d taken him away from the unjust fists of his father. The woman who, despite her love for him, just hadn’t seen the fog that had settled over her son. Steve knew she was tired from all the extra shifts, needing the money for his medicine. So he knew it would be selfish to burden her with this inconsequential bother of his. The razor from the pencil sharpener― the one that broke when those bullies had emptied his backpack and stomped on his things― allowed the fog to be gray, rather than black, for a time. 

And it was fine.

He’d thought, a couple times, that if he weren’t there his mom wouldn’t need to tire herself so. The thought of that, how happy Bucky would be without such a _”sickly, weak little fairy!”_ dragging him down. How happy his mom would be, able to go out and spend her extra cash on something nice for herself. How nice it would be, not to have this damn fog over top him. He’d dug the razor in― the one that had always given him a jump start when the fog became too overbearing and made him too numb to function, the one that made it fine again when it wasn’t― But Bucky had come in, wanting to sneak into that new movie that came out. The brunette was so scared. And so mad. _Like when dad came home, smelling bitter and strange and slurring and him scrambling between him and his mother, no matter how much he wanted to scramble under his bed instead_. And Steve didn’t want to see that look on his mother’s face. Not Bucky’s either. But it was his fault. So he didn’t dig too deep again, and told his mom it would never happen again, that it was a lapse in judgement.

That was when Steve got good at lying. He was fourteen, at the time.

He lied about the bruise on his neck when he made a noose and hung himself from it, only to have the frayed rope snap and leave him gasping for air. The fog was suffocating him anyways, but _actually_ suffocating was…not pleasant. He preferred the razor. But he’d promised Bucky… and it hadn’t worked anyways. He had to stay, for Bucky.

And things had been fine. He’d mourned his mother, and Bucky helped him through the grief. (Yet that ache in his chest never left. And the fog was _in_ him now, not just hovering over him) The blade steadied him whenever he needed it, and he managed. He’d tried to make another noose once Bucky left for the war, sure. With stronger rope this time, so it wouldn’t break. But it wasn’t a big deal. He’d allowed himself to slip it around his neck like those pretty pearls some of the dames wore, let himself think what it would be like to let go. He was twenty, then, but he didn’t do it. After all, he had to try once more, to go after Bucky. To serve with him.

And then the serum granted him that. He could help, he could fight. He could _protect_. It was what he was meant for. Be a shield, and once you’re too dented and cracked to be of use, fix yourself, or throw yourself out. A useless shield was, after all, not worth anything. 

And it was fine.

Then Bucky had died. 

The _one_ thing that didn’t seem quite so blurred by the fog, the _one_ person still able to make his lips rise without them feeling like lead. The _only_ one to have seen the blank, empty blue instead of the strong, clear protector everyone else had seen. Gone. 

Steve didn’t know how to mourn that. How do you mourn the sun, when it dies? No supernova, no goodbye, just…disappearing. Like a fog: dissipating. Like the icy, bitter fog Bucky had fallen into. How do you mourn your very heart, when it’s ripped from your chest? Leaving you so empty you can’t even tell you’re empty?

And it wasn’t fine.

Steve had to keep fighting. The rage he felt toward those who had hurt Bucky was the most emotion he’d felt since the joy when his mother had saved up and the two went to the circus, when he was ten. But he felt the most rage towards himself: the one who’d let Bucky die. The emotion was strong and foreign, after going so long only feeling emotions through the fog. And while he was flipping switches, trying to find the correct one to allow him to land the plane, he realized. It didn’t matter that he _could_ land it ― it only mattered that he _shouldn’t_. 

He shouldn’t have survived the cracked skull and the punctured, already fluid-filled lung when his father had become fed up with Steve’s worthlessness. He shouldn’t have survived that first attempt with the razor. He shouldn't have survived the second attempt with the noose. He shouldn’t have survived the third, almost-attempt with the noose. He shouldn’t have survived this fog. It was meant to suffocate. And he didn’t need to breathe, it seemed. So fine― he could suffocate in another way, and do the fog’s job for it.

So he crashed. 

And it hurt. The cold stabbed into him worse than any blade, ached more than any knuckle-shaped bruise. The drowning wasn’t too pleasant either, if he were honest. 

But then it was really, truly fine.

…

And then it wasn’t. 


	2. Liar Liar, Shield on Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first hint is as simple as apathy and a pained breath. The others know Steve too well, can read people too well, to mistake this for nothing.

Steve was _awake_. 

Why?! He wasn’t― he shouldn’t― _why?!?!_

Confusion.

That was an unusually strong emotion too. So much was bright, fast, new, different. But even that faded back into a distant feeling once this new world was explained to him. The psychologists SHEILD made him go to helped fill him in. Now, Steve’s shield was his lies.

He was a pro at the art of lying, by then. 

Thus, he was deemed psychologically good to go. Then, the shield of Steve Rogers was needed again. And so he fought. Fought against things he hadn’t ever imagined in the Battle of New York. And then he lied some more, and his new team thought it was fine.

Didn’t they know it wasn’t?! 

He was awake! Couldn’t they see the fog?! It was pitch black now, like the emptiness Tony had fallen from. Blades made it dark gray. It didn’t make it light gray anymore… Only times of laughter and quiet evenings or dinners with the team made it light gray. But no matter. He would be foolish to tell them of the haze. What could they do? It would only spur pity, or accusations of craziness, maybe. It didn’t matter that they were all friendly snark, open eyes, and kind intentions. He loved his new team as much as he had his old one. So he would not dare bother them with the dark, heavy fog inside him.

Until the tiny hints as to how dented he was began to be noticed. Then, his team wouldn’t take “I’m fine” for an answer, any longer.

*******

Steve had misjudged. 

Sometimes the fog wound tighter. It made the knot in his chest that never went away worse than usual, made him ache so badly his breath would hitch randomly as pulses of _pain ache ow why what’s wrong with me pain tight breathe cold ow ache_ shot through him whenever they pleased. It was times like these when his thighs were always torn up beneath his pants. _Jeans now, not slacks, so strange. But comfortable._ Normally the cuts would be completely gone, not even a trace of a scar left, within two days. Unless he went deeper. Then it was more like three days. 

The past couple days had been like this. The torn skin chafed, even with the bandages between them and the denim. Steve was sitting on the couch in the common room, leaning against the back of it with his gaze directed outside. His sketchbook lay discarded next to him, pencil broken atop the open page. The past several pages were filled with disturbing, suspiciously dark pools, limbs afloat in them. Or odd hazes, ghoulish faces just able to be made out through it. Each one had dark, vivid, angry scribbles through them from when Steve came back to himself and realized what he’d drawn. Each time Steve tried to draw lately it was either that that came out while he was in the zone or… _nothing_. That’s how he knew it was the worst: when he couldn’t even manage to draw. 

Thus, the current page the book was open to was pure white, only marred by the tiny fragments of the pencil Steve had snapped between his fingers in frustration. 

Tony walked into the kitchen while Steve was still staring out the window, watching the bustling city of New York from high up and far away. The billionaire made a beeline for the coffee machine, as per usual. He’d actually been coaxed to bed my Pepper the night before. Waking from a full night’s sleep was more exhausting than passing out after three straight days of working! As he leaned against the counter, blowing on then uncaringly gulping the steaming liquid, Tony reflected on the “break” he and Pepper were taking from each other. He had a feeling it would be permanent… but perhaps that was for the best. They’d been drifting apart, and Pepper couldn’t handle the whole “superhero danger” thing very well. Still, they were close, and it was nice. Tony knew they’d be okay, if nothing else. Hopefully it―

Chocolate brown eyes flicked to the prone blonde on the couch. Tony stared through the cutout in the wall that made the counter of the bar, between the kitchen and the living room. He wasn’t used to seeing Steve look so…still. Sure, the guy was often reading or drawing, which weren’t exactly active activities, but he often fidgeted or…something.

…it was probably nothing. Who knows what Cap got up to in his daydreams, anyways.

Tony went back to his musings on his friend as Natasha walked in, sighing, and grabbed the carton of orange juice. Her attentive greenish gray eyes took in Steve’s form on the couch― who shifted a little to the side, resting his arm on the back of the couch and his head on that― and started making herself a vodka and orange juice. 

”Cap a bit tired today?” She inquired, looking to Tony as she put the drinks away. 

”Mm? Oh, I suppose so. Haven’t talked to ‘im,” Tony answered, unconcerned. “Vodka in the morning, really?”

”Vodka cures more than coffee, Stark.” Tony held his hand up in dissuasion as he grabbed his StarkPad and pulled up some old data to sift through. He wasn’t about to argue with the redhead, that was for sure. It never ended well! 

Natasha sipped her drink and yeah, that hit the spot. She headed around the bar, coming to stand beside Steve. 

”Morning, Cap.” A broken pencil? He had better control over his strength than that…

It took Steve a full four seconds to react to the greeting. He blinked, jerking a tiny bit and looking to Natasha. “Oh, Nat, hey.”

A finely arched brow rose. Even Tony looked a little surprised by this interaction, from the kitchen. He pretended to look at his pad, leaning over the counter as he listened, looking up occasionally. Steve was usually very aware of his surroundings, especially if he was being talked about within earshot. Come to think of it, the blonde should’ve heard their conversation in the kitchen when they mentioned him. Especially with the enhanced hearing. Steve always got annoyed when someone talked about him near him as if he wasn’t there. 

”Bit out of it, there?” The Widow asked, eyes now taking in Steve’s posture. A little slumped. More than she had seen before, actually. A bit… listless, compared to his usual twitchy self. What really sparked her worry, though, were Steve’s eyes. Not bright, baby blue, nor a churning ocean, but a noticeably duller navy color. She’d seen his eyes darken in rage before, or in appreciation of a fine body, (yeah, she’d noticed, despite Steve’s denial. Tony had insisted on the strip club… and probably would again in the future) but had never seen the usually expressive orbs… apathetic. It was unnerving. 

Tony, too, frowned as he picked up the indifferent vibe from their Captain. Even with his stunted social skills, as Pepper liked to remind him of, he could tell something was…off. Perhaps not wrong, per say, but definitely off. 

The Captain blinked again, more slowly this time. “Little, yeah.” He turned to look back out the window, not wanting to talk. The words were an effort, for some reason. 

Natasha frowned. “Rog…Steve, are you alright?” She was never one to beat around the bush. 

“Sure, m’ fine,” he said, voice sounding light. But Natasha picked up on the hollowness. That didn’t sound like their Captain. 

”Right. And I’m a natural brunette,” she scoffed, draining more of her drink. She sat beside him, picking up the sketchbook to do so. She tossed the broken pencil onto the coffee table before them, and then glanced to Steve. 

”Didn’t feel like drawing?” She asked. 

Tony smiled faintly, joining the conversation when he saw an opportunity for a snarky comment, like always. “He probably broke the pencil before he could draw anything!”

Normally, Steve would’ve turned to Tony at that, glared halfheartedly, and smiled. He might have even laughed a little. But his chest felt as if the tesseract was inside it, crushing him as it did Red Skull so many years ago. His thigh itched and burned beneath his jeans, taunting him to cut again and get rid of the blackness that _just won’t leave it’s been days why hasn’t it let up yet I can barely breathe it hurts I can’t even draw anymore why won’t it stop._

Steve realized the two were staring at them; he could feel the gazes boring into the back of his skull. He turned, the fog in his mind pushing most else out, and making him forget what he’d just heard. Something about a crayon? Breaking like when he used to push too hard when he was a kid, then crying over it until his mom taped the two pieces back together? 

”What?” Would the fog leave him be and recede again if he cut deeper, perhaps? Or maybe the lighter. That had been a different kind of pain, but it worked just the same. 

”…Capsicle, dude, you need a drink if I’ve ever seen a man who needs one,” Tony said, brows drawing in sympathy. That did get a reaction out of Steve: a soft scoff and definitive nod.

”Believe me, if I could get drunk, your beloved scotch cabinet would probably be empty by now.” 

That was the longest sentence anyone had hear from Steve’s mouth in… a couple days. And Natasha didn’t like the sound of it. Tony didn’t either, but he would never show it with blatant concern. 

”Ha! If you drank all my scotch I’d have to get a suit out, Cap!”

A small smile was all Steve said to that, not rising to the playful banter as he usually would. His and Tony’s vehement arguments had turned to a mutual respect and banter, though they still butted heads…often.

”Steve…” no, Natasha knew Steve. If she pressed he would only clam up. Baby steps. “How come you didn’t draw anything? You always want to draw.”

He glances down to the sketchbook in Natasha’s lap, and immediately frowns deeply at the sight and recollection of the sketches that were inside it. “I…couldn’t. Think of anything.”

”Shocker.” Natasha threw a small pillow from the couch in Tony’s direction. “Hey!” 

Steve’s lips twitched upwards a bit more at that. This was why he was in the common room. His family bantering around him and just…being themselves…it helped. Maybe he didn’t have to go get his lighter. Where was it again? He was pretty sure he’d dropped in on his dresser…

”Well, want me to pose or something?” Natasha offered. Steve shook his head

”That’s alright. I―”

”By the Norns, who ate all the strawberry toaster pastries?!” Thor bellowed form the kitchen. Steve and Nat quickly turned, surprised. Tony was bent over the counter still, laughing hard. 

”Thor, just eat the―hahaha!― cinnamon sugar ones…!” Tony managed.

”But Tony! They are not as sweet as the strawberry ones!” The blonde was waving the box of “not-as-good” pastries angrily.

Natasha heard a tiny chuckle form beside her, and looked to see Steve smiling. Wider than she’d seen him smile in days. And laughing. When was the last time she’d heard that laugh? Too long. She smiled back. 

”Not every day you get to hear a Norse God throwing a tantrum over PopTarts, hm?” She snickered. 

Steve nodded, the ghost of a smile still curving his lips ever so slightly. He looked back out the window as Clint and Bruce came in. Clint began laughing right along with Tony as Thor raged, while Bruce shook his head and tried to quietly and unassumingly get through the bodies in the kitchen to get to the muffins on the counter. 

For a little while, the Avengers allowed themselves to let down their guards and just be a _team_ and not _The Avengers_. It was nice. 

The moment calmed as the six settled either on one of the couches or on a stool at the bar, watching TV or looking at their StarkPads. Natasha was watching the others as she sometimes did; half paying attention to the television. She noticed, therefore, when Steve’s breath went…odd, and he huffed slightly, seeming to draw inwards a little in what seemed to be pain. She― and Thor, with his sensitive hearing― immediately looked to their Captain, whose brow had a crease in it. 

”Captain, are you well?” Thor asked, concerned. He was fiercely protective and loving of his friends. Affectionate, as well. He was currently pressed against Clint’s side on the opposite couch. Clint and the others were used to it…but definitely didn’t seem to mind. 

Steve looked up, eyes flicking between the five pairs now worriedly trained on him. The blonde tensed, and stuttered, “U-um. Yeah. I’m good. Fine. Well. Yes.” His chest _ached_. As he sat with his team, the pain fading, he’d been hit with a stronger wave of it right as it had been getting better.

”That was even less convincing than me, and I’m an awful liar,” Bruce said, smiling a little through the concern for his friend. 

”Oh. Um, well no, yeah, I just… tired. Gonna go to bed. S’late.” There, excuse. Now he could go. The lighter _was_ in his dresser, he recalled. 

As Steve stood, ready to inconspicuously bolt back to his room, Tony stood as well. Bruce looked close to it. 

”Cap, it’s nearly noon. It’s daylight,” Tony said clearly, frowning at Steve as he gestured to the window. “You know, out where you’ve been staring for the past thirty minutes?”

The Captain blinked out the window. “Oh. It is. Huh. Guess I was up late. Er, early?” He tried to call on his years of lying expertise, and ran a hand through his hair. It was supposed to be bashful, but ended up nervous. “Just couldn’t sleep, no worries. I’m just gonna head to bed…” he was already turning and heading back towards the hallway that led to all their rooms. He could go to his own floor, but…his room was closer. And the fog was _not letting go Jesus it was wrapping around his goddamn **throat** what else could help him but the familiar grounding pain right now?! _

Natasha wasn’t having it, though. She stood and was after Steve in a heartbeat, hand on his shoulder and yanking him to a halt. “Oh no, that’s not gonna work right now. No lies, Steve. You’ve been sleeping for at least ten hours a night! Yes, I’ve noticed! Based on your alertness when I came down you’d only been awake for a few minutes.” 

Bruce sat on the edge of the couch, reading to get up if he was needed but not wanting to crowd Steve. “Steve, if something is wrong, you can tell us.”

Wrong? There was a noose around his neck again. But made of that damn haze now, not rope. Did that count as wrong? “

”Steve, your breathing is picking up, slow it down,” Natasha said, eyes and hand falling to the now slightly heaving chest. The blonde tried, managed to not gasp and breathe normally again. Steve rubbed his eyes, feeling…nothing. A tiny bit of panic, at the idea his team was worried and might _make_ him spill the beans, but other than that…he felt nothing. 

Why did everything feel so painfully _distant_ and _numb?!_

”Steve?” Tony asked again. The Captain looked lost in his head; his eyes far away as he seemed to forget about answering. 

Steve glanced up at his name, and shook his head. No. He’d kept the fog a secret too long. He couldn’t just…let it go. It didn’t work like that. “I’m just feeling…off. No worries. I’ll head down to the hot tub and relax, maybe, I’ll be fine.” There. That was more believable, right? 

Clint’s eyes narrowed. He may not be on Natasha’s level but he could read people well enough. Steve was definitely not fine. Not at the moment. But he was a grown man, he could handle his own issues, Clint figured. “Alright,” the archer said, causing a couple pars of eyes to flick to him, “take it easy, man. No, Bruce,” Clint said when he saw the scientist start to protest. “He doesn’t need us mothering him, jeez. He’s a grown ass man.”

Tony frowned, looking to Steve, who looked too relieved at the idea of getting out of the situation for his liking. He knew a thing about running away from help, after all. “Okay. Cap, call Jarvis or come to any of us if you need something.”

Damn. If _Tony_ was worried, Steve definitely needed to keep it together better in front of people. The others took Tony’s concern to mean that they _unquestionably needed to be concerned about this._

“Sure, thanks. See you,” Steve said as he did his best to walk calmly out of the room. He headed to the elevator, forcing himself to wait the minute it took to get to his floor― the 85th. Once he was in the quiet elevator, he breathed a sigh of relief, slumping against the wall. He ran his hands over his face. God, it hadn’t been this bad in a while…he just needed a little extra, maybe. A lighter would do just fine. _Then_ the hot tub, like he’d said, and he’d be fine. 

It’d be fine.

It wasn’t fine. That was the first hint to show― and no one forgot it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry not sorry. Steve is too precious and so for some horrible reason, I feel the need to break him. I'm awful, I know xD


	3. Protectors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve is a protector, and he does his job as a shield well. But when a resulting injury causes a confused flashback and a running, uncensored mouth, the Avengers are faced with a second hint. And they aren't about to let this one slide without an explanation.

The second hint was even bigger than the first. 

It was the damn doombots again, except this time they’d been upgraded. They were larger. Much larger. They were destroying buildings left and right downtown, and within minutes the Avengers had been called to the scene. 

The fight wasn’t an easy one. Thor’s lightning and hammer were the best weapon against the stronger bots, reducing them to sparking heaps. Clint was quickly running out of explosive arrows as he covered Natasha, who was helping to get civilians clear of the danger. Soon he found a weak point on the back of the bots’ necks. The archer started aiming there once he ran out of explosive arrows, which slowed them enough for Tony to get good shots in with his repulsors or for Steve to slice their necks open with a good throw of his shield. 

The Captain watched as another arrow lodged itself in a bot, making its movements turn jerky and slow. He hurled his shield without pause, slicing its neck open and leaving its head dangling. Thor soon finished it off with a throw of his hammer. Clint whooped through the coms. 

”Whoo! Look at that teamwork! Even Stark’s getting’ the hang of it!” The team heard past the _fwing, fwing_ of arrows being fired rapidly.

Tony laughed. “Shove it, Barton! Says the guy who’s always on a perch somewhere!”

“No shit, Sherlock, I’m a hawk, remember?? Unless I get a pair of Sam’s wings, perches will be just fine for me… Except for now!” The archer holstered his bow and ran, vaulting off the edge of a building and onto the back of a bot that was flying by. He stabbed an arrow into the breach in its armor that he’d been aiming for thus far, and was yanked off the back of the now crashing bot by Iron Man. As the two flew over the resulting explosion, grinning with adrenaline and the rush of battle, they watched Thor’s hammer fly through a bot about to attack Natasha and into the pillar of an already damaged building.

Tony cursed and set Clint down on a roof, then flew straight for Nat. Another doombot tackled him out of the sky though, and the two ended up grappling as they flew haphazardly through the air. The repulsors went off repeatedly, trying to hit the slashing bot and kill it. The stray blasts crashed into buildings, leaving gaping holes. There was a reason the Avengers always drew complaints about property damage…Thor called his hammer back to him and quickly grabbed Natasha, flying away from the trembling, groaning building. 

”Get clear of that building, guys! It’s coming down in less than a minute or two!” Bruce’s voice said through their coms. He sat in the helcarrier far above the battle, not a direct part of it unless the Hulk was needed. He watched over the team and gave them info they were otherwise too busy to see. 

But this time, Steve was the only one who saw the flash of brown hair in the fifth floor of the teetering skyscraper.

He didn’t think of the fact his shield was somewhere amongst rubble right now; he had no time to retrieve it. The blonde sprinted into the building and immediately headed to the staircase, jumping across the gaps left by the damage. Fifth floor. He had to get there: now!

”Steve, what the hell are you doing?!” Clint demanded. 

Tony was less polite about it as he finally destroyed the damn bot that had attacked him. “Are you out of your fucking mind, Rogers?! Get your patriotic ass out of there!”

A grunt of exertion as he muscled a large chunk of concrete out from between him and the door to the area he could hear high pitched cries of help from. “Civilian. Fifth floor. Tony, or Thor, get ready to catch them!”

He finally found the kid, hand slamming against the window and calling for help from the heroes down below. Steve ran to him, staggering as the building leaned dangerously. “Hey, step away from the window for a second, would you?” The terrified and shaking boy did so, clutching a screaming bundle in his arms. A baby. 

As Steve punched through the glass, making glass shatter and rain down, he asked, “That your little sibling?” He could see the red and yellow blur heading for them, and heard Tony’s shout of “God damn it, I’m ten seconds out! Get ready, Steve!”

The boy nodded, a faint smile making through the fear on his face. “My little brother. It’s my job to protect him.” 

Steve felt a pang make its way through the fog still around his neck. It hadn’t left, but it had loosened slightly, allowing him to think clearly during the battle. “Good job, kid. You did great. Okay, I’m gonna pass you to Iron Man, alright? He’s gonna catch you and your brother and you’ll be alright.” He saw himself in this kid, he couldn’t deny it.

Green eyes widened and flicked to the window. “But…!”

”Steve, I’m here! Throw!”

No time to comfort. Steve grabbed the kid, shouting over the groaning of the building, “Hold tight to your brother!” and hurled the kids out the shattered window. 

Iron Man caught the ball the kid had curled into around his baby brother just fine, and had to immediately leave as the building started to fall towards them. Steve couldn’t make sense of the shouts of his teammates in his ear. All he focused on was the now tilting floor and how hard it was to sprint on the angle. He headed to the side, crashing through one of the windows on the side as the building collapsed. He managed to get a grip on the fire escape of the next building, but the alley he’d jumped into was narrow. As the building toppled, shards of it fell everywhere, and one piece of concrete broke the fire escape Steve was clinging to. The blonde fell, crying out as another piece of concrete slammed into him, no doubt cracking the rib it smashed into. 

”Steve!” 

Deafening noise everywhere, and pain as his body was tossed around. He was vaguely aware that at least he wasn’t _under_ all that. Being halfway under it was still a problem, though. 

"Ste―!” A sharper pain… it was a lot like when his father had slammed his head into the countertop, actually. Steve wondered idly if he’d finally be able to let go now. 

********

”I see blue!”

”Get him… stretcher… is he alive?!” The hand hurt, digging into an old injury. His father had already broken that arm, but it was his favorite one to grab and yank him around with.

”You stupid asshole! Running into a fucking…skyscraper…shit’s sake!”

Steve coughed wetly, tasting iron and unable to draw a proper breath. Ouch. Breathing hurt. Everything hurt. 

”―eve! Can you…me? Steve!” 

The Captain managed to pry open his heavy eyelids. He made a pained noise at the burn of the blood that ran into his eye from a gash on his hairline. “Tone…? Wha―” He coughed again, more violently this time. 

“Punctured lung. Get him onto his side so he doesn’t choke on the blood!” He groaned loudly at the pain as he was moved. Faintly, Steve began to notice other things. The sound of a helicopter landing, or bustling bodies, worried voices… he blinked, and took in the rubble around him. Steve’s eyes fell on the small rebar pole that was twisted beside him and…going through his arm like some sort of hook. That didn’t look right. It was like when he used to hook staples under the skin on his fingers and pretend he’d stapled his finger, except…this staple was rather deep. And painful. 

”Oh. Ow,” Steve mumbled as the medics cut into his uniform to get at his side. He watched Tony cut through the pole with his repulsor so the piece going through Steve’s arm wasn’t too long. 

”No shit!” Clint shouted, half irate and half amused. “That’s what you get for being a fucking―!”

”Clint! Stop!” Thor growled. He was tense with rage at seeing his brother in arms in such a position. 

”Steven, why did you not call for me?? I could have reached the children!” Thor questioned, brows drawn. 

Steve ignored the medics as they spoke and prodded, looking up at the god. “Ther’s…ther’ w’s no time…kid had ta…out.” He frowned, clenching his fist and watching idly as that spurred a gush rather than a trickle of blood from the wound on his forearm. “Huh. Funny.”

”Don’t do that!”

”Wait, how the fuck can he move his han―oh no. The serum is trying to heal the wound around the damn bar. Shit, Carson, get the fucking gauze! We need to take this out now!” 

”But he―”

”Anesthetic won’t work anyways, remember?? Iron Man, Thor, I’m going to need you to hold him in place.” 

”Mmm...? No, ‘s okay. ‘s just a cut.” 

”Are you blind?! There’s a God damn metal _pole_ through your God damn arm!!” 

“Tony, chill. He’s obviously got a helluva concussion.”

Steve felt strong hands hold him firmly. One set was hot, the other was oddly hard and cold. Oh, the suit. Right. Why were they holding him again? 

”Okay, hold steady…now pull!”

Steve attempted to yell in agony as his arm was _torn clean off it felt like_ but all that he managed was a choked, low cry as his body jerked and tried to arch under Tony and Thor’s grip. He coughed again, red splattering the ground beneath him, and watched the blood start to flow freely from his arm. His mind was clouded by blood loss and injury rather than fog now, taking him back to a somewhat similar time. Thus, as the medic pressed a wad of bandages against the wound, his mouth ran without his consent. 

”Buck…’s fine. ‘M sorry. Didn’t mean fer y’ t’ see.” His vision was swimming just like it had been then _with the long cut down his arm and the razor discarded on the floor beside them as Bucky held a towel to his arm and yelled and cried at the same time, petrified and infuriated._

”What? Steve, no, just… you’re okay, we’ve got you.” He hadn’t ever heard Tony’s voice so soft. It was just like he hadn’t ever heard Bucky’s so soft, albeit shaky. _”I’ve got you, Stevie, you’re gonna be fine, you stupid punk…just don’t ever…never again, you hear me?!”_

Steve’s eyes fluttered closed, and a quick series of slaps to his cheek had them opening again. “No sleeping, Rogers! Not with how much blood you’ve lost!” Nat? 

The Captain groaned, confused. Why didn’t they just leave him be? He’d made the decision, they should let him go. But they were just as stubborn as Buck, weren’t they…? “Y’ should…stop. My choice. ‘S fine. Too dented. Gotta throw m’self ‘way. Duh.” 

The hair that had been running soothingly down his dust-covered face (and when had that gotten there?) tensed and stilled along with the people around him. “Steve… what was your choice?” Nat asked, choosing her question carefully. 

”Dyin’. Duh. Y’ know dad wan’s me gone, Buck, he’s tried ‘nough ‘mself…” his brow scrunched in pain as he was shifted onto a stretcher. “Noo, stupid…! Lemme…lemme go…” the sound of the helicopter blades was getting louder. “Dun’ wanna go t’ the hos’pt’al, idiot! S’ why I di’n’t call ‘em! It’s…it’ll be fine…” Steve rambled, trying to struggle off the stretcher but getting nowhere. Natasha was above him once more, as his vision faded again. 

”Steve, calm down, it’ll be fine.” 

He laughed, though it came out a little gargled. He still tasted iron. “If y’ stop it will be…” he said quietly. The medics were bustling around him again, and he felt a lurch and figured they must have taken off. Before he passed out, Steve only had time to wonder when and why a helicopter had come to his house instead of an ambulance when Bucky called. 

******

Steve had been in surgery for three hours.

The Avengers had been in the waiting room for three hours.

They’d barely been convinced to shower and change once their wounds were attended to. Curses had been thrown at every nurse and doctor who tired, but eventually the five heroes were in clean, _not_ blood-and-battle-stained clothes as they sat and waited for news. Natasha had been on a secured phone call briefly to give Fury a mission report. Every one of them had crossed arms and tense shoulders as they sat. Finally, Clint spoke, unable to get the blood-filled, slurred words out of his mind.

”His father tried to kill him.” A disbelieving but resigned statement. 

The others looked to the archer, eyes unreadable. “Apparently,” Tony settled on. “Anyone know about that?” he inquired. He received four head shakes. 

”I find it deplorable one as bright as Steven had to go through such strife. Is this common amongst your people??” Thor said. 

”Child abuse isn’t as uncommon as you would hope,” Natasha said. Silence that buzzed with anger reigned for a moment before Bruce broke it.

”What worries me is not only that that isn’t in any records, meaning he probably hasn’t talked through it with anyone, but that from what I heard through your guys' coms, it sounds like Steve attempted suicide before the serum. It also sounded like… he didn’t want to be saved today.”

They all heard the disturbing echo of _”It’ll be fine.”_ and _”If y' stop it will be…”_. 

Tony growled lightly, refusing to believe that had meant what it seemed like it did. “What?? There’s no way…he…Steve is too…but…” Tony Stark: speechless. It was a rare sight. 

Clint’s voice was monotone. “I’d bet money Buck was the person to find him before, if that’s the case. Wasn’t that his childhood friend?”

”Aye,” Thor confirmed, “he has spoken of Bucky Barnes to me before. They were like brothers. But why would Steven wish to perish…?”

Another moment of quiet as this sunk in. Bruce spoke again: “we’ll ask him once he wakes up. Hopefully it was just confusion from his injuries talking.” 

”It’d better be. Or else I’m gonna be even more pissed at him for being a stupid asshole,” Clint concluded. Tony laughed once, though there wasn’t the usual mirth in it. 

As Natasha opened her mouth to speak, the two doctors that had been working on Steve walked in. Immediately the five of them were on their feet.

The redheaded doctor smiled. “He’s going to be alright.” Most of the tension in the room faded just like that, and the other doctor continued. “We got the ribs, arm, and ankle back in place and his head and arm stitched up. He’ll have trouble moving his hand for a day or two, and he should be off the respirator tomorrow, hopefully. But give it a week and he’ll have nothing but scars, and then those will fade as well. His vertebrae is cracked, but that’s actually almost healed by now, I think. Judging by his shifting.”

”Thank fucking Christ,” Clint muttered under his breath. Tony mumbled,”Amen to that…”

One of the doctors left, while the other led team to Steve’s room. They were on the helcarrier, so there was no need for guards to be outside the door like there would be if they were in a regular hospital. The five avengers walked in, first going up to Steve to check on their Captain.

Natasha laid a gentle hand on the white gauze on Steve’s hairline. The respirator was allowing the blonde’s chest to rise and fall steadily beneath the blanket, and the heart monitor showed a slow but steady pulse. His left arm was above the blanket though, wrapped tightly in gauze from wrist to elbow. His other arm and ankle were simply in splints, since there was no point to putting a cast on them. They’d heal in mere days. The Widow moved to the couch on the wall after that, relaxing now that she could see for herself that Steve was alright. Well, mostly. The others soon joined her either on the couch or on one of the plastic chairs, keeping watch on the rhythm of Steve’s breathing. It was calming to hear it so steady after hearing it choking and wet and pained.

One by one the Avengers fell asleep, Natasha the last to nod out. They’d had a rather rough day, to say the least. They all woke after a few hours, though, to the sound of rough coughing. They sprang awake, eyes darting around for any danger before falling on Steve, who was turned onto his side, trying in vain to breathe without the respirator on. The mask was discarded off the side of the bed as the blonde gasped for air. He’d yanked it off once he woke up. Finally he stopped coughing, and turned back onto his back with an annoyed grunt, breathing now stuttering and uneven. 

”Ow…” Steve muttered as every injury and stitch made itself known. God _damn_ he wished morphine would work on him! 

”Steve, put that back on!” Bruce said, coming to stand beside the bed. Clint and Thor went as well, but Tony and Natasha stayed back, not wanting to crowd Steve. 

The Captain looked to the two, and smiled a little even as he squinted. Things were sort of…unfocused and…too bright. And loud. “Hey guys.” When Bruce tried to slip the mask back over his mouth and nose Steve turned his head away. “No, don’t need it.”

“Steve. You were coughing up blood until an hour or two ago. Actually, more than that, cause we were asleep…but you get my point. Mask, now.” This time when Bruce tried to put it on Steve brought his injured arm up to swat it away. He made a pained noise, and frowned at the sight of his arm. 

”Did I…again? What?” He muttered, confused. All the wrappings around his arm looked like the ones he'd woken up to after Bucky had found him. Had it happened again??Steve looked up and couldn’t seem to focus on the faces of his teammates. “Wha’s wrong with me?”

”Your head met a collapsing skyscraper, that’s what happened,” Clint said angrily. Thor laid a comforting hand on Steve’s arm, being extremely gentle as he pushed it to rest back against the bed. 

”You have a concussion, tis called,” Thor answered. Bruce pressed the call button, knowing the doctor would want to examine Steve while he was awake before letting him rest again. 

”Oh. Oh yeah, that happened,” Steve chuckled as he remembered, another cough making its way out of him. He batted the respirator away again when it was held up to his face, with his good hand this time. “Still no.” 

”God you’re stubborn,” Tony noted from the couch. He noticed it was already almost midnight. They’d been asleep for a couple hours… 

Steve laughed again, softer this time so as not to aggravate his injuries. “So I’ve been told.” The redheaded doctor walked in, smiling at the sight of Steve awake and no longer choking for air on his operating table. 

”Captain Rogers! It’s good to see you up!” He dimmed the lights in the room considerately, and Steve sighed in relief. “Thanks…”

”Of course, excuse me,” he said to Thor and Clint, who went back to their seats to give the doctor room. He grabbed a penlight and asked Steve to focus on one ear, then the next. He hummed and asked the blonde to follow his finger as he moved it in random patterns in the air. Steve’s eyes tracked it, then lost it, then flicked to the side of it, then fell on it again. When the doctor moved it quickly from one side to the other, Steve blinked several times, taking a second to find it. He frowned in concentration. This was frustrating… Bruce, meanwhile, was watching what the doctor was doing. He had some basic medical knowledge, but it was always good to watch a professional in case he ever had to do something like this in a pinch.

“Well, you definitely have a nasty concussion. I’m surprised you’re not puking all over the place, but glad. That would not be good for your breathing…speaking of…”He grabbed his stethoscope and moved the blanket down as Steve scoffed lightly at his words. The Captain was shirtless, but the amount of bandages on his chest made it so that he practically _was_ wearing a shirt. The scope was pressed to Steve’s chest for a few breaths. 

”Okay, breathe as deeply as you can.” Steve did so, but before getting half a lungful he ended up coughing painfully, curling inwards slightly and holding his ribs. Natasha silently envisioned about thirty different ways to kill the doctor with his stethoscope. 

”Right. Well, all thing’s considered, you’re doing far better. That serum sure is something…” he jotted some information on the chart at the end of Steve’s bed then asked, “On a scale of one to ten, ten being unbearable, how’s your pain?”

A slow blink. “Six?”

Natasha spoke up calmly. “That’s Steve-speak for about an eight.” She received a small laugh from Tony and Clint and…no glare from Steve. He would usually shoot her a halfhearted glare for something like that…were they back to that unnerving apathy from their Captain? The others all noticed this too, and feared the same thing. 

The doctor wrote that down as well. “Well unfortunately I can’t do much for that short of knocking you out, which, considering your head, isn’t the best idea. So I advise you five to go home and sleep, and for Captain Rogers to rest. That’s really all he needs at this point as long as there are no complications. Doctor’s orders.” He smiled as he left, wishing them all well. 

The team seemed to relax more at this news. Their Captain was healing― he’d be just fine. Bruce laid a hand on Steve’s shoulder and said, “Before we go, we wanted to ask you something, if you feel up to a little chat.” 

Steve was idly thinking it was a good thing the bots had attacked a couple days after his last… regression. The burn marks and cuts had faded by now, thank God. He wouldn’t have been able to excuse an old injury like that… the hand on his shoulder felt pretty nice. It was one of the few not-so-sore areas on him, currently…

…Wait, had someone spoken to him? He looked up, eyes widening a little in curiosity. “Hm? Did you ask me something?” 

Bruce blamed that on the concussion, but it still reminded him of that foreign, detached Steve that had appeared days ago in the common room. “Can we talk to you real quick, if you’re up to it?”

Steve shifted with a wince, and nodded. “Go for it. Sleep is boring anyways.” The fog was lighter than it had been in weeks, allowing a bit more of himself to show through. It was odd, but a nice change. Annoying that it took a building falling on him to accomplish, though. 

Tony, sitting in chair next to Steve’s bed, was the one to pop the question after a beat. “Do you remember anything you said when we dug you out of the rubble?” 

A hum. “Ummm… when you found me…I remember the rebar. Wasn’t much fun. Like a staple, you know? But too deep. Other than that…” he remembered getting the past confused with the present, but he couldn’t exactly say that. “…I remember being confused. And annoyed at all the chaos. Why?”

Tony frowned. “A staple?”

”Yeah, like when I was a kid. Used to hook them under a layer of skin and pretend we stapled our fingers.” His chuckle was half that and half a cough. 

Clint smiled. “I used to do that too…not a pretty analogy though, Rogers!” Steve smiled. He was relieved to hear Steve speak that much, honestly. He was never particular loud, but lately he’d been even quieter, not sharing tidbits like that as he usually did. 

They all knew they couldn’t beat around the bush forever, though. Clint was the one to rip the metaphorical band aid off. As he spoke Steve’s eyes widened more and more. 

“You were mumbling about Bucky and being dented. You said you had to throw yourself away and that dying was your choice. You also said something about your father wanting you gone. So, Steve, what we’re asking is two things that we now suspect: Did your father abuse and try to kill you? And did you try to kill yourself by going into that building? Because you should have been aware that Thor would have been able to get to those kids in time. And we’re worried.”

Steve was frozen when Clint stopped talking. His team was looking at him expectantly, and they knew, apparently. Well, some of it. And he had to explain, and… 

“Oh.” Was all Steve managed.

Natasha’s voice was soft. “Steve, we’re the last ones to judge.”

The Captain swallowed, heartbeat picking up noticeably on the monitor and his breathing becoming more labored as it grew quicker as well. “I…What did I _say_ …?? I didn’t― I mean, I can’t― you don’t― I’m not…” he couldn’t get anything out right. 

”We could play the recording, if you really want,” Tony deadpanned. “But judging from your reaction just to the summary, I’m fairly certain letting you hear that would be a bad idea. So it’d be easier if you just talked to us.”

Steve’s hands shook almost imperceptibly, eyes wide and a little panicked at the thought of explaining. “I didn’t― it was― that’s not what happened… I wouldn’t…” he heaved a sigh, bringing his good arm up to pinch the bridge of his nose. He then laid that arm over his eyes. It was easier to talk _and lie_ if he didn’t have to look at them. He let half-truths flow to appease his teammates’ worry. 

”My father did abuse me, yes. And yes, he tried to kill me. Although he was rather lazy about it, in retrospect. It really wouldn’t have been hard. And no, I didn’t try to off myself. If I had been trying to I wouldn’t have jumped out of the building at all.”

His team was quiet as they took that in. Finally Tony asked, “Why isn’t that abuse in any of the biographies written about you, though…?”

Steve sighed again and lowered his hand, tracing the pattern on the ceiling idly. His vision and focus was still off though, so it didn’t work very well. “Dunno.” He said simply. 

”…you were abused for years and told no one?” Bruce asked, his calm clearly forced. Steve’s jaw tensed. 

”Buck and Mom knew. Other than that, yes. I don’t see how complaining about it would’ve helped,” Steve said honestly.

”How were you abused?” Natasha asked bluntly. Steve finally looked back to them, confused by the question. He was relieved not to find pity in their eyes. 

”Um…abusively?”

Tony and Clint couldn’t help but laugh at that. It wasn’t a humored laugh, but still. Thor merely growled. “If your father were still among us I would smash his fingers for daring to lay a hand on you.” The others were surprised to hear such venom in Thor’s voice. Steve’s lips thinned at the threat. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

Thanks, I guess…?” Steve said. Natasha wasn’t distracted though.

”I meant mentally/emotionally, verbally, sexually, physically, or any combination thereof,” she stated. The Captain looked away again. 

“I don’t see how that really matters.”

”You don’t see―?! Steve! Of course it matters!” Tony said crossly. “My dad abused me verbally and emotionally. It matters for the effect it had on me! Ughhh you’re impossible, I swear to God!”

Bruce sighed. “We want to help, it―”

”It’s not like it’s going to make a difference, Bruce! He’s dead anyways! What does it matter?!” Steve interrupted. He took in the team’s shocked expressions and realized that was the most inflection his voice had held in weeks. He huffed and turned away from them. “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for. But seriously, just leave it.”

His team stubbornly stayed where they were, faces resolved. He cursed under his breath when he realized they’d stay there all night until he decided to talk. With a carefully blank tone he gave in. 

”Fine, Jesus… physically. And emotionally.”

The resolute stares didn’t ease. They could see in Steve’s eyes he was holding back; they knew him too well to believe him. 

Steve groaned in frustration. “Ughh…and verbally.” 

Four eyebrows rose. Thor simply glared. 

”…”

A tense moment. 

”...” a defeated sigh. “And sexually. Sort of.” 

”…how the fuck do you _sort of_ sexually abuse your child?!” Clint exploded. He wanted to riddle Steve’s father with arrows about now. And pull them out one by one. Slowly. Then repeat the process a few times. Perhaps with acid of some kind involved.

The Captain flinched at the harsh words, the volume making his head pound. “Jesus, Clint, volume!” Steve complained. He squeezed his eyes shut against the pounding and clarified. “Indirectly, that’s how.”

”Indirec―?”

”We needed money. He liked to remind me it was my fault, so I was going to help pay the bills. My God, can we stop talking about this?! This is solving literally nothing! It was years ago!”

”…you’re saying your father sold you. For money. Regularly.” Tony said, voice careful. Bruce was taking deep, slow breaths. 

”For Chrissake…yes, does that satisfy your curiosity?” Steve asked sarcastically. He hated opening up in any way, and this was…not something he wanted to talk about. Ever. 

”Two more questions,” Clint said. “One: how old were you when it started?”

”I’m starting to think I _should’ve_ stayed in the fucking building…” Steve muttered, earning shocked looks. Cap _never_ swore. Well, very rarely. 

”Please do not say such things, Steven! You―” 

”Five or six. Well, for the verbal.” He saw the looks on their faces and knew he wasn’t going to get away with not elaborating. Angrily, he finished: “Seven for the physical, ten for the sexual. Or maybe eleven. Not sure. Maybe twelve? Who cares??”

Several slow breaths. The Avengers held back their rage, knowing it would only make Steve clam up again, which they didn’t want to do. They’d finally gotten him talking. 

“We do. Okay, okay… last question,” Bruce said. “When you were talking I also got the impression you’d attempted suicide before. Have you?”

Steve went rigid, heedless of how badly that caused his injuries to ache. Bruce blinked in concern. “Steve?”

”I haven’t.” Very firm, very neutral tone.

But the lie wasn’t a good one. He seemed to have lost the ability to lie properly, as of late. The others looked pained at the indifference in Steve’s voice. How could he speak so uncaringly of the abuse he’d suffered, of the pain he’d been through?

Thor came to the side of the bed opposite Bruce, gazing down at his Captain with endless compassion. “Steven, on Asgard, any illness of the mind is treated with as much care as those of the body. You need not hide such pain from us. We are your shield brothers and sister― and we care for you.” 

Steve stared at those electric blue eyes, unable to understand the pure kindness and care he saw there. Why would anyone care about him? Why?? Far off he heard Tony mutter: “Well, that at least seems to be more effective than the yelling I was going to do…”

Monotone, Steve’s mouth spoke without his consent. “Why on Earth do you care? I’m not worth that sort of…concern.” 

”Why do we _care?!_ Maybe because you’re Steve! You’re our friend and Captain! Your our stupid, clueless friend, though!” Clint managed to yell while still keeping his voice at a low enough volume that he didn’t hurt Steve’s ears. Steve looked to Clint with uncomprehending eyes. He just didn’t believe it. The fog distorted everything, and it made this seem…too good to be true. 

Yet he couldn’t leave them feeling like he was pushing them away. If he left this lie be, he could tell his team wouldn’t take it well. And they’d probably just ask him again and again until he decided to answer anyways. 

...But maybe... just maybe... they actually really _did_ care about him...

Maybe.

”…”

_Once, passively, when he didn’t go for help when his father had cracked his skull and left him coughing blood. Again, with a noose too weak to hold him up. Again with a razor and ill timing. A near attempt, with a stronger noose. Again, with a crashing place full of nukes and a strange blue cube. Once more, after he woke, when he hoped the bleeding bullets he’d taken on a mission would kill him in his sleep before the team came to extract him as long as he didn’t wrap or care for the wounds. They hadn’t. He’d woken in medical, disappointed, with everyone assuming he’d simply passed out before he could treat himself._

How many was that? He could feel the worried stares boring into him as his team waited for him to decide whether or not to trust them with this.

”…hm. Well, does passive suicide or a very near attempt count?” He asked, smiling somberly. He watched a couple brows draw in pain at his words and apathetic tone.

Thor, Tony, Natasha, and Bruce immediately gave a firm, “Yes.” Clint, meanwhile, gave an equally firm, “Of-fucking-course it does!” 

Steve glanced down and away again, sighing softly through his nose in resignation and surrender. He let the words fall, ignoring the voice screaming at him not to speak at all and to push his friends away. He let this secret go for the first time, not stopping to try and take it back or lie this time. 

”In that case, six times.” He heard several sharp intakes of breath. Steve hummed, pursing his lips in thought. “Well, I really _wasn’t_ attempting to off myself today, but I didn’t care if I died or not, so if you want to count that: seven....Then again, not caring happens often, so yeah, no, today doesn’t count.”

After a few beats of silence as the Avengers let all this information sink in, Steve spoke again. “We done here now?”

”…why?” Tony asked, voice quieter than Steve could recall hearing it before. 

”……”

”God damn it, Steve, don’t make us drag this out of you too!!” Clint growled, irate that the Captain would even think of doing that right now. 

Steve frowned. “Because then it’d be fine. It should be fine. And it’s not. So why wouldn’t I try to make it fine?” He wasn’t about to tell them about the fog or the fact he was nothing but a broken, overused shield, no _way_. But they needed…something. Some sort of answer. And that was the best answer he could give without sounding like he belonged in a strait jacket, Steve figured.

Bruce’s hand fell to his shoulder again, squeezing as hard as he dared. “I would hug you if I could.” Steve, Nat, and Thor’s lips curved into tiny smiles at that. “But Steve, I know the feeling. I’ve tried too, as I already told you. You… whenever you feel that low, if you ever feel that low again, please come to me. Or any of us. Please.”

Steve blinked. “Why?” He asked honestly. There was more empathy in Bruce’s eyes than he deserved. Tony’s too, now that he glanced to the billionaire. Had...had Tony, as well...?? Steve hoped not. He really did. Tony was the last person who deserved to feel so low...

”So we can help you regain high spirits, of course!” Thor responded. Natasha stood at the foot of the bed, laying a comforting hand on Steve’s shin.

“How old were you the first time you tried?” She asked. She saw the look on her Captain’s face, which now looked considerably more exhausted. “Last question, I promise.” 

Steve rolled his eyes a little. But he was tired, and he just…didn’t have the strength to lie, anymore. “Eleven.” 

“Much too young, to feel such agony…” Thor said sadly. Steve shrugged, watching as his team began to head towards the door, their eyes distant in thought. They wanted to stay and talk; ask questions until they understood, but Steve needed rest. They did as well. And they’d take what they could get, for now. This was, after all, the most information they’d ever gotten out of their Captain about what was wrong. They’d known something was, each time Steve lapsed back into his…apathetic moods. But he would never confide in them when that happened. So this was a start, and that was good enough for now. They could deal with the rest later. 

Each person gave him some sort of comforting touch on their way out. Natasha was the last to leave, laying a kiss on his forehead. He blinked owlishly up at her, caught off guard by the caring gesture. 

”Sleep well. We’ll be back to visit tomorrow and see if we can take you home with us.” The sight of Tony blowing him a kiss with a mischievous grin before ducking out the door and Natasha’s words had Steve’s lips curving into a tired smile. He was amazed that the smile didn’t feel heavy. For the first time since Bucky, smiling didn’t feel like an effort. 

Huh. Curious. 

”Lookin’ forward to it,” Steve returned. 

Once out in the hall the Avengers turned to each other. They knew they’d be having a long conversation about this come morning. But for now, finding spare rooms on the helcarrier and resting seemed to be the best option. They said their good nights and headed to bed. 

Once Steve was alone, he was expecting panic to overtake him with the realization that his team _knew_ now, if only part of it. But instead he felt…oddly calm. The numbness had receded― the fog was now a lighter gray then it had been since…since before Bucky died. For the first time in a long time, Steve drifted into an easy, restful, and healing sleep. 

Funny, what knowing people cared did. It almost made it fine. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Steve is being forced to drop his carefully constructed walls... and the team is getting closer and closer to figuring out what's wrong. I could drag it out, but honestly, I think the next chapter will be when the team finally corners him and forces him to explain fully. So we'll see how that goes. 
> 
> Slight spoiler: It won't go too well.


	4. The Final Hint

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright: next chapter is where Steve will be forced to do a lot of explaining! 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this one! I had fun writing it, and at the same time it broke my heart...
> 
>  
> 
> **POSSIBLE TRIGGER WARNING: Not extremely graphic self harm in this chapter. Description of the injury afterwards.**

The third hint was the last

Steve ended up sleeping for another solid day. Natasha and Clint came to keep their Captain company come morning, but found him still deeply asleep. The nurses explained that this was actually a good thing, as it would give the serum time to do its job. Natasha brushed Steve’s bangs off his forehead as she nodded to this information. Clint patted the blonde’s knee, not about to show his affection as easily as Natasha did. Hell, he was surprised the Widow showed as much as she did, actually…

Steve was soon moved to the SHIELD headquarters near the tower, and the others went with him. 

That day was instead spent in a very long private conference with five Avengers and Fury. The director was not pleased to hear the news he was brought. At all. But he knew the right thing to do, regardless of productivity’s sake.

”Alright…” Fury sighed once all the explaining was finished. He leaned back in his chair. “He’s grounded, then. No more missions until we know he’s stable enough to be in the field. I’ll try to find a therapist for him. SHIELD has plenty of them, obviously, but it’s a matter of picking the right one for Rogers.”

Tony blinked. “You’re not...no rage or frustration? No ranting about how Captain America needs to put aside his personal problems for the good of the world??” The billionaire had expected Fury to be pissed about the situation. 

But the director only laughed at the notion. “Are you joking, Stark?! How much of a prick do you take me for?? Rogers isn’t just Captain America; he’s Steve too. And if Steve isn’t okay, he’s not going to perform his best. He’s a danger to himself and to all of you in the field, and I won’t have that.” He smiles a tiny bit. “Besides, I gotta admit, the kid’s kinda grown on me. I wouldn’t want him to end up dead by passive suicide.”

The Avengers all nod as they let this sink in. “Fancy that: Fury has a heart,” Tony said sarcastically.

“Okay,” Bruce finally says before any argument could start over that little jibe. “Send us the information on any therapists you think would be good for Steve and we’ll narrow it, or have him pick.”

Clint scoffed, arms crossed. “Somehow I don’t think he’ll be all that agreeable towards picking a therapist for himself.”

”He’s gonna suck it up and do it anyways,” Natasha said resolutely. “I’m not about to let the stubborn bastard hurt himself by ignoring his problems anymore.”

”I’m with the scary redhead on this one,” Tony pipes in. Clint bites his lip to stifle a laugh as Nat shoots Tony a death glare, earning a far-too-innocent and cheerful smile from the billionaire. 

”These therapists you speak of…they are healers for the mind?” Thor inquires. They have only one kind of healer on Asgard, so all the different names and types of healers on Midgard confused the god sometimes. 

”Yeah, pretty much,” Tony answered. Fury stood. “Okay. Goodwill― the doctor in charge of Rogers― told me he’s good to go home tomorrow. So I advise you all to submit your mission reports then head back to the tower. One of you come back tomorrow morning to take Rogers back to the tower, and talk to him about the therapist.”

”Sounds good,” Clint said as everyone stood as well. As they filed out, they gave Fury their thanks for his help and headed to the computers to type up their reports. Tony was whining the whole way, as usual, but the five seemed to breathe a bit easier now that they had a plan to help their Captain. Steve would be back on his feet and in the field once he was ready, and it’d all work out fine.

******

The next day, as he limped sorely back into the tower, Steve was a little stunned. His team was being… normal, around him. They weren’t coddling him or being overly-nice like he’d expected. The Captain was definitely glad about this, but it was still a bit surprising. The fog was getting darker again by the minute though, making him more and more certain that his team was simply realizing Steve didn’t matter. Ah, that must be why they weren’t talking about it… well, they were right; he didn’t matter. So Steve was fine with that. He was eager for them to forget completely. 

He forced himself to smile as the Avengers toasted to him, downing the scotch and wishing the burn in his throat would lead to intoxication but knowing it never would. Steve excused himself once the idle chatter began to make his head hurt again. 

“I’m gonna go take a shower and wish that Advil worked on me,” Steve said, setting his glass in the sink. The others looked disappointed, albeit glad to hear even that tiny joke form their Captain after so long of seeing him… distant. 

”Aww, but Stevie-bearrr, we didn’t even get to _suggest_ a drinking game yet!” Tony complained. Steve rolled his eyes at the nickname. In reality, while a drinking game would also be really fun, Tony and the others just wanted Steve near them. His company was always reassuring, but it was even more so now, as they relished in the fact their Captain had survived _six_ attempts on his own life. None of the Avengers believed in miracles, but the fact Steve was here with them now was almost worthy of being called one. 

”I even brought Asgardian wine for you and I to partake in! I am certain this would allow you to experience the merriment of intoxication as well!” Thor encouraged. 

Steve smiled, waving absently. “Another time. Somehow I don’t think being drunk would help my headache, at the moment, no matter how nice it sounds.”

Realistically, Natasha knew being drunk was probably the last thing Steve needed. It was a depressant. Based on what Steve had told them, that probably wouldn’t help his mental state all that much…but if they were all together, perhaps it would allow him to relax and forget for a while. But still, now wasn’t the time. 

“Steve, come back down once you’re done. We wanted to talk to you about SHIELD,” Natasha said. That wasn’t the full truth, but it was close enough.

A yellow brow rose into the gauze over his forehead, and Steve looked a bit apprehensive.

”Nothing bad, no worries,” Clint brushed off. That was sort of a lie. To Steve, the conversation would not be a good one. At all. But it was necessary to tell him what they’d discussed in the conference with Fury. 

Steve sighed softly and nodded. “Sure, sure…”With that he slipped to his room on the common floor and away from the compassionate gazes of his friends, stripping his clothes off as he made his way to the bathroom. Once there he looked irritably at the abundance of bandages on his body. He’d been instructed to remove only some of them, and to leave others on for another day while the injuries healed fully, but…fuck it. He stripped all the gauze off, rapidly filling the trashcan to the brim with it all. Steve took in the purple, red, and black bruises, the stitches on his head, ribs, and arm, and hummed. _Note to self: falling skyscrapers aren’t a good time, serum or no._

Steve opened the bottom drawer in his sink, moving the medical supplies to the counter top to use once he got out of the shower. Beneath them lay a simple pocket knife. He grabbed it and turned the hot water on, hissing loudly as he stepped beneath the spray. It felt great to wash off the remaining grime from the battle, but it still stung like a bitch. 

Steve showered with a frown, for as he lifted his hands to wash his hair and contorted to wash his body, every mending bone and bruise made itself known. By the time he was done showering he was aching all over even more so than before. His muscles, though, were relaxed from the hot water.

Before he got out, Steve picked the pocket knife up off the small shelf in the tile wall. He flicked it open and stared for a moment at the gleaming silver edge. The last few times he’d used this, it hadn’t lightened the fog as much as it usually did. But today the fog was getting closer and closer to being pitch black again, stifling and numbing. So Steve quickly accessed his body for any clear patches of skin, and settled on his right arm. He held the knife in his still somewhat stiff left hand, idly tracing the nasty scab and stitches that marked where the pole had hooked through his forearm. His left hand wasn’t back to full strength yet, but it was getting there. Steve wasn’t completely stupid, however, so as he brought the blade across the bruised sin on his right forearm from the now-healed break, he was sure not to cut too deep. By now, he knew exactly how deep he could go before he nicked a vein.

He lost track of how long he watched crimson well up and drip from the fifteen or so cuts he’d made. Steve snapped out of it when he realized the fog was now simply gray. He breathed a small sigh, relieved that this time it had worked like it always used to. Steve made several more cuts for good measure before cleaning the blade off and closing it. He felt much better now; not so numb and uncaring, just…more normal. Functional. He could actually get shit done and focus for more than thirty seconds on one thing, now!

Steve got out of the shower and cleaned his wounds, both new and old. The rubbing alcohol was even less pleasant than the hot water on his torn skin. Once done he wrapped his ribs and arms, then put butterfly bandages on the slice on his head, and a piece of gauze overtop that. He slipped on a navy hoodie and jeans, finger-combed his now dirty blonde hair into some semblance of neatness, and then headed back to the living room as requested. 

He found Thor playing…what was it called…Mario Race, or something, with Clint and Natasha. The three were utterly focused even as they cursed and threatened one another, getting far too competitive over a simple racing game. Steve smiled at the sight, and headed into the kitchen, where Bruce was cooking lasagna while Tony tried to eat all the cottage cheese topping. 

”Tony, there won’t be any left if you keep eating it!!” Bruce chastened, batting the engineer’s hands away from the tub of cottage cheese. Tony whined. 

”But Brucie pooooo! It― ooooo, Steve, I approve of the messy hairdo!” Tony complimented with a small smirk. He paid no mind to Bruce’s groan of “Dear God, stop calling me that…!”

Steve turned pink, running a hand self-consciously through his damp hair. “Oh, thanks…” 

Bruce glanced to Steve at Tony’s words and smiled. The effortlessly messy style suited Steve oddly well. “It _is_ rather cute, Cap.” Steve turned a slightly darker shade of pink, muttering under his breath embarrassedly. He noticed the pot of noodles bubbling over and quickly escaped the conversation and chuckling brunettes, taking the pot off the burner. He grabbed a fork and poked the large noodles, finding they were done cooking. He turned off the burner and took the pot to the sink, but as he turned Bruce was trying to set the large glass pans for the lasagna next to Steve on the counter. With a yelp, Steve jerked backwards to avoid hitting Bruce or the glass with the hot pot. In doing so Steve caused the boiling water to slosh over the side of the pot and all over his forearm. Since he was holding it with his right arm― his left still under instructions form the doctor not to lift much with it, plus he was right handed anyways―Steve gave a quiet cry of pain as the boiling water seeped straight through his sleeve, bandages, and into his still open cuts. 

”Shit, Steve, sorry!!” Bruce said worriedly. Steve hurriedly moved around the scientists and to the sink, setting the pot in it so he could wave his arm, flicking his wrist to rid himself of the scalding water. Shit, shit…he could feel the blood seeping through the bandages. Shit. His brow was still drawn in pain from the searing wet fabric against his injuries, but he couldn’t take his hoodie off or they’d see―

”Everything okay in there??” Clint called amusedly. Couldn’t trust any of them in the kitchen for long, it seemed… 

”We’re fine, Legolas!” Tony called back, watching Steve with concerned eyes. Why did the blonde seem so panicked…?? It was just a burn. This wasn’t like Steve...

”Let me see, jeez, you keep getting’ hurt lately…” Bruce said, also fretful due to the unusual reaction from Steve. Bruce automatically grabbed Steve’s wrist and pushed the soaked sleeve up to his elbow. The Captain jerked his hand away, but not before Bruce had pushed his sleeve up far enough to see a bloodied bandage. Bruce and Tony froze.

Steve shoved his sodden sleeve back down immediately, but it was too late and he knew it. The damage had been done. He took as step back, mind racing. 

_No no no no they saw!! But will they know? But that’s not the arm that got hurt and they know it!! Oh no they’re going to ask no no no no no I can’t!!!!! They’ll know!!! They can’t know what do I do?! Do I run?!?! But I have to come back at some point! Oh God I can’t breathe oh God they can’t know no no no no no no **no!!**_

“Cap… that’s not the arm that got a pole through it,” Tony said carefully, “What happened?” 

Steve was choked up― he couldn’t find the words to answer. For a anxious moment all the three Avengers in the kitchen heard was the others yelling over their game, unaware of what was happening fifty feet away.

Bruce and Tony could clearly see the frozen panic in Steve’s eyes as he held his wet sleeve down over his hand, barely breathing. “Steve,” Bruce began, “Can you let me look at your arm?”

”I-I… I don’t…you don’t need to… it’s fine.” Steve managed, turning away and looking like he was about to leave. Tony was soon in front of the Captain. 

”No, no, you can’t just…Cap, please, just let Bruce take a look,” Tony tried to keep his voice calm when all he wanted to do was yell and demand answers. 

Steve’s hands shook slightly, and his head followed in a rapid shake. “N-no. No, I can’t…I…” his breathing stuttered, and Steve squeezed his eyes shut, hand gripping tightly at his wrist. He didn’t have any lies prepared for this situation. He was defenseless…and he didn’t know what to do.

Tony and Bruce feared the worst, and rightly so. Tony gently pushed Steve back towards Bruce by his shoulders. The blonde didn’t move at first, rooted to the spot. Before long though, he let himself be pushed. What was the point of fighting it…? They’d find out soon no matter what he did……fuck…he was so stupid…!! 

Bruce made Steve sit on one of the dining room table chairs, yanking it out quickly for the blonde. He pulled one out for himself, sitting and grabbing Steve’s hand tightly before he did anything else. 

“Hey, hey,” the scientist said softly, ducking his head to meet Steve’s eye. He tilted the trembling man’s chin up so they were eye-to-eye, and smiled tenderly. “You’re okay, okay? We’re fine; I just want to look, alright? Nothing’s wrong, it’s okay…” as he spoke Steve began to get more and more rigid. Tony came up beside them as Bruce turned his attention to Steve’s hands, gently but determinedly prying the Captain’s death grip off his own wrist. 

Tony, worrying the inside of his cheek between his teeth, rubbed a soothing and instinctive hand on Steve’s back as he watched Bruce’s careful movements. He took over the soft reassurances so Steve wouldn’t try to leave again, letting his mouth run like he always did. “No worries, Stevie, Bruce’ll have ya good to go in no time, and we can continue with dinner.” 

The muscles under Tony’s hand tensed even more when Bruce pushed the wet sleeve up to Steve’s elbow, and Tony shushed him, rubbing more firmly in a makeshift little massage. “Hey, shh, it’s okay, it’s alright…”

Steve’s mind was racing, but at the same time it was blank. He couldn’t focus on any of the rapid-fire thoughts and so he let his consciousness ignore all of them. His eyes were wide and fixed on the dark-skinned fingers that carefully but efficiently unwound the bandages from his arm. He was confused for a moment as to why the revealed, slightly bleeding cuts were blurring before he realized his eyes were filling with tears. He blinked rapidly, getting rid of them. He noted absently the skin all around the cuts was angry and red, blistered a tiny bit in a couple spots from the boiling water. 

The two sharp intakes of breath made Steve look up, and he saw Bruce’s warm brown eyes flicker with green briefly. Beside him, Tony had taken a page from Steve’s book and turned into a statue, hand resting on the blonde’s back but no longer moving. 

Before the three could find any words, Clint came around the corner. “Are you guys okay in here or wha― oh my God.” He was beside Bruce in an instant, eyes wide as they took in Steve’s arm.

“Oh my God, Steve. You… what? Why? You…” Clint growled, glaring at the blonde, who now looked even more terrified of the situation. “What the hell do you think you’re playing at?! Steve, you could have killed yourself!!! You fucking moron! I can’t beleiv―”

”Clint, what the hell are you yelling about?!” Natasha walked in, Thor in tow, both of them now worried by the irate shouting. Tony backed out of their way and gestured towards Steve. He was trying to wrap his head around this. Steve: the charismatic, shy, adorkable Steve… in so much pain that he’d tried to kill himself _six_ times… and now this…? He felt rage take over his fear as well, and before he knew it, his mouth was running again while Bruce stood and tried to calm Clint down. 

”Steve, what in the name of fuck did you think you were doing!?!?” Tony seethed, now standing in front of the Captain. Bruce turned his quiet words of dissuasion to Tony now, worried the already overwhelmed blonde in the chair would be sent into a panic attack or freeze up more than he already had if people kept yelling at him. Tony and Clint ended up yelling at Bruce next. 

”Stop yelling, Jesus, he’s―”

”He deserves to be yelled at if he’s gonna tear his God damn arm apart!!” 

”Clint, for God’s sake, think about what you’re saying!!” 

_”You_ think about what _you’re_ saying, Bruce!! Clint at least realizes how fucked up this whole situation is!!” 

”Guys, calm your shit before you make it worse!!” 

Steve tried to pull his sleeve back down, looking away from Clint and Tony’s irate visages. He hated to be the cause of such an argument…God, it was just like with his parents…But a strong hand yanked his arm out again while he was lost in his thoughts, and Steve couldn’t wrench his wrist from Thor’s grip. And that was that. Thor and Nat saw and suddenly the whole team knew. He watched the electric blue and gray-green eyes take in the multitude of cuts lining and crossing occasionally on his forearm, wishing with everything he had that he’d never been brought out of the ice.

Thor glared at Steve. “Steven…by the Norns, why would you do this to yourself?! Why did you not come to your comrades for aid?!” Nat laid a hand on Thor’s arm, gently making the god let go of Steve’s arm. She was pissed. Really pissed. Mostly at Steve…who was she kidding? She was more angry at herself for never picking up on the signs Steve was hurting himself. But she was attentive, perhaps that meant Steve hadn’t been doing this before…?? She hoped desperately that this was the only time this had happened.

Steve yanked his arm into his lap and his sleeve down. He rubbed a thumb over the cuts through the fabric, anxious and dazed. Natasha laid a hand over Steve’s gently putting a stop to the no doubt painful movement. She shushed everyone, giving them each a glare before Tony spoke up. 

”Steve… God, I know where you are right now. Sort of, anyways. I have experience with self-harm too, alright? MIT wasn’t all fun times, but…” Tony tried to reason, feeling guilty now. “I’m sorry I yelled, you just worried me…”

The Captain looked down, unable to process what was happening. They knew. All of them knew. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. What could he possibly say?

The team saw Steve’s lack of words, and stepped in for him. ”Steve…how long has this been going on for?” Bruce asked, crouching in front of the blonde so he could look him in the eye. When Steve looked up Bruce moved to sit in the chair again so they were level once more. 

”…” 

They’d be mad if he answered… oh, but he could lie! He could try to defend himself with lies again! He was good at that, it should work!

”It was just this once,” Steve said quietly, gaze flicking to the left of Bruce. Tony glared at him. 

”Bullshit. I’ve seen people who’ve been doing it for years that haven’t done that much damage in one sitting. How long, Steve?!” 

”Tony, stop yelling!” Natasha scolded. Tony gave a cross “tch!”, clearly irate, and crossed his arms. He tore his gaze away from the wet sleeve, picturing the bloodied cuts beneath them too clearly. They looked fairly deep, and with the serum, that meant they’d been even worse originally… God…He wasn’t sure what he’d do if he kept thinking of the physical representation of how much pain Steve was in internally. Tony silently tried to collect himself.

Thor laid one strong, warm hand on Steve’s shoulder. 

”Please, Steven.”

”………………I…I think I was… fourteen, the first time…” the Captain said hesitantly. 

”…Fourteen? _Fourteen?_ Are you fucking kidding me?! That’s too long, dammit! That’s…!” Clint couldn’t even finish his rant. “And fucking _eleven_ the first time you tried to kill yourself! _Eleven!!!_ What the actual―And do you do this often?!” The archer demanded. 

Steve tensed, but irrationally, he got mad. Who were they to be pissed at him for doing what he had to in order to drive the fog away?!?!

Steve stood, fists clenched, and glared. “Yes, fourteen! And that’s none of your god damn business! None of this is!” Once he’d started yelling he couldn’t seem to stop. “Stop making me tell you this shit!”

Tony came up to Steve and grabbed his hand. “We only want to―” 

”I don’t _care!!”_ Steve shouted, ripping his hand out of Tony’s grasp. Several wide, worried, and angry eyes were staring at him. They’d never seen the blonde like this, and especially not lately, with Steve’s general apathy. 

And suddenly, Steve wanted out. He was _not_ dealing with this anymore! 

”Forget it!” The Captain growled, spinning on his heel and storming out of the kitchen. Natasha grabbed his shoulder hard, trying to yank him to a stop as Bruce tried to reason with the terrified, overwhelmed Captain. 

”Cap, please! Just listen! We can help― we have a couple therapists picked out for you to choose from and they can―”

But Steve interrupted, only pissed off more by the rambled, desperate words. He wrenched from Natasha’s grip with a furious, “Leave me alone, dammit!” before running to the stairs. He knew not to take the elevator, for Jarvis could just stop it. He ignored the footsteps chasing after him, vaulting over the railing repeatedly to get down the flights quicker. Steve ran until he was in the garage, where he immediately snatched his keys off the key rack. He quickly ripped his hoodie off and grabbed his leather jacket off the handlebars of his motorcycle to hide his shredded and bandaged arms. Not bothering with a helmet, the blonde tore off on his bike right as Thor and Natasha barreled out of the stairwell after him, only seeing his exhaust as Steve drove away.

The redheaded assassin swore foully in three languages before grabbing the keys to a different motorcycle and flooring it out of the garage after Steve. Tony, Bruce, and Clint ran down the stair in time to see Natasha’s red hair disappearing behind the New York traffic through the open garage door. 

Tony looked up at one of Jarvis’ many cameras. “Jarvis, patch me to Natasha’s com! Did she grab it??” 

”She did not, sir. She also does not have her cell phone on her, and neither does Captain Rogers. I cannot track either of them.” The AI responded, voice sounding remorseful. Tony and Clint both hissed, “fucking shit!” at the news. They’d have to wait until Natasha came back…

Thor, however, wasn’t about to sit and wait. Not when he could do something. The god called Mjolnir to him, and the hammer came crashing through the roof of the garage. While Bruce brushed concrete dust from him hair and shirt, the god spun his hammer and flew off in the direction his teammates had gone, searching by air. 

Jumping into action, Tony ran outside, yelling at Jarvis to send a suit down. The AI did so, and soon Tony was flying off after Thor.

Steve knew the speeding engine behind him was Natasha even before he turned and confirmed it. Jaw tensing in irritation, the Captain took three consecutive sharp turns to try and shake his pursuers. Why couldn’t they just leave him be!? It’s not like they cared what happened to him! He wasn’t worth anything, so why would they?!

Natasha’s brow was furrowed in concentration as she tried to keep up with Steve. She nearly got broadsided by a garbage truck, though, and by the time she’d slammed on the brakes and drove around the truck, she wasn’t sure which direction Steve had gone in. Before the Widow even had time to swear again, however, she saw Thor then Iron Man fly by above her and take a sharp right, then a left. She raced after the two, determined to find their Captain. 

Thor knew Steve had taken this left, but when he turned…he couldn’t see the blonde hair atop the two wheeled motor vehicle. He stopped in the air, surveying the area he could see and trying to listen for the deep rev of Steve’s Harley. Tony came up beside Thor soon after the god stopped and had Jarvis scan the area. 

But Steve had skidded into an alley the second he’d turned the corner and into a miraculously opened garage. He cut the engine right as Thro blasted around the corner after him, and jumped off his bike. He ran out of the garage and shut the door behind him, knowing he needed to abandon his bike and leave a diversion. Natasha wouldn’t leave a garage like this unchecked, so he couldn’t wait inside for them to pass by. As Jarvis began his scan, Steve ran into the back entrance of the building across from the garage he’d left his bike in, finding a public restroom and going into one of the stalls. He waited. 

He could be patient. 

Thor came back to the ground when he saw Natasha come around the corner. “I have lost sight of him!” The god admitted, eyes frantic with worry. What if the good Captain tried to hurt himself again…??

”Shit… search this area. He could already be a mile from here on foot _or_ on his bike!” Natasha ordered, driving down the busy street. Before long Tony came down outside an alley, his voice projecting out of the helmet. 

”His bike is over here, come on!” Nat drive over, and soon noticed why Tony had pointed her here. The alley was lined with small garages, and only one of them was closed. She opened it, only to find…Steve’s bike. But no Steve. The assassin’s face fell, and she knew the chase was over. Steve was smart enough to abandon his bike and run. With his speed, he could be halfway across the city by now…

”Damn it all!” Natasha swore, driving back into the street. Tony punched a crumbling hole in the brick wall next to the garage with Steve’s bike in it, furious and frustrated and worried and just fed up with this whole day, really. Steve heard the somewhat distant crunch of brick, and knew it had to have come from something strong. Like Thor, or the Iron Man suit…or the Hulk. But he was pretty sure he’d have heard a roar if that was he case…

Nat relayed the news to Thor once the god landed, and jumped at the crackle of thunder that echoed across the city. 

”Steven must be found, Natasha! He may try to harm himself again!!” Thor bellowed, enraged in his fear for Steve. 

”I know that, Thor! But we can’t realistically search the entire city for him! He could be halfway to the other end of the island by now!”

” Heimdal’s _whores!!”_ Thor roared in rage, throwing his hammer into the street, creating a massive crater. The other cars around them, most stopped to take pictures of the two Avengers, started honking in irritation. The alarms on every parked car near them went off. In the bathroom, counting the minutes, Steve jumped in shock at the vibrations he felt. 

Well. That was probably Thor or Tony throwing a bit of a tantrum…

Tony couldn’t help but chuckle at the faces of the people watching as he hovered near his two teammates. Natasha glared at the longhaired man as she drove her bike out of the crater. ”I know, I know…” she took one last look around the area before sighing and looking back to Thor, who was now holding his hammer and looking sadly around as well. Neither of them cared about the crowed that had formed or the flashing phones and cameras. 

”Let’s go back to the others,” Natasha resigned. She made her way back, Thor and Tony flying above her as she drove. Once they got back the remaining two Avengers were immediately demanding answers. Natasha parked and put the leys back on the key rack, shaking her head. Bruce and Clint’s face fell. 

”He eluded us,” Thor said somberly.

”We can’t search the entire city…” Natasha pointed out. Tony bristled, his face plate sliding up. 

”Well we’re sure as hell not going to leave him, not in the state he’s in! My dad searched an entire _ocean_ for Steve!! We can manage searching a mere city!!” The billionaire snarled. 

”Tony…there’s too many people… he could run off the island within thirty minutes, to boot! We can’t know where he is in a city this populated, or in the entire _state_ …” Bruce said sadly, feeling the weight of the hopelessness of such a search. 

”So I’ll send my suits out looking for him, then!! That’ll at least do _something!!!”_ Tony shouted. Clint sighed heavily, a deep crease between his brows. 

”That’ll help, for sure. Let Jarvis monitor what the suits are scanning, though. They can use face recognition. In the meantime, don’t work yourself too hard looking. I’m not letting you go out there, because I know you’ll work till you drop, and that won’t help anything.”

Even though they― and especially Tony― hated it, they knew Clint was right. 

“Alright… he’s probably just blowing off steam running. He’ll be back later,” Natasha said, voice far more confident in that than she felt. Steve _did_ often go on runs to relax or cool off, but… this time…she couldn’t help but envision every possible way Steve might try something stupid. 

”He will,” Tony said firmly, fists clenched at his sides. “He will!”

Bruce gently ushered the hurting team into the elevator and back upstairs. Tony gave Jarvis instructions as they rode back up to the common floor, and by the time they stepped out of the elevator they watched a team of Iron Man suits spreading out over the city to search. The sight only reassured them a tiny bit, but it was something. 

Bruce finished preparing the lasagna, and once it was in the oven cooking, he walked out to the living room and sat with the others, watching the now less energetic game of Mario Cart. He realized something after watching Clint get blown up by a blue shell. 

”Shit. We never even told him he was grounded, did we?”

A sigh from Tony and Clint. 

“Guess that’s just another thing to look forward to talking about,” Natasha said sarcastically. 

Even Thor sighed that time. Their team―their _family_ should be together and working through any strife together right now. But they weren’t. Right then, he agreed wholeheartedly with what Steve had said two days ago in the hospital, exhausted and at the end of his rope. 

_”It should be fine. And it’s not.”_

*****

Steve counted out about twenty minutes after the presumed super hero tantrum before leaving the bathroom. He peeked outside, and then headed onto the bustling sidewalk. He was relieved to see everything was as it should be…save for a crater in the road that was now roped off. 

Well then. 

That would probably the tantrum he’d felt and heard.

Far above him Steve saw a familiar suit flying. He cursed mentally, ducking into the nearest store he could find and buying the first hat he found. He ended up walking out of the store wearing a black snapback that read “DOPE” on the front in white, blocky letters. He wasn’t sure what the word meant… or maybe it stood for something… but he really didn’t care. It provided all the camouflage he needed not to get picked up by any Iron Man suits’ scanners.

For hours Steve walked. He knew running would result in him loosing focus and running too fast, which would then result in the suits noticing him. So he walked, taking random turns and keeping his head down. He tried not to think about what had happened, but he wasn’t successful. The emotion-laden memories flashed through his head uncontrollably. 

_”What the hell do you think you’re playing at?!”_

_”Steve, what in the name of fuck did you think you were doing!?!?”_

Steve passed a rundown area, ignoring every jibe thrown at him and every suspicious glare. He didn’t give a damn about his surroundings, at the moment. The blonde walked for another hour, and soon ended up in a rich-looking part of the city. He kept walking, hardly noticing the change in scenery. 

_”You fucking moron!!!”_

_”He deserves to be yelled at if he’s gonna tear his God damn arm apart!!”_

Steve saw what looked like an abandoned building. There was a crowd gathered at the parking structure behind it, but who cared. He headed into the building, realizing it was half-built, much like the other buildings around it. Hm. Abandoned project, then. He figured he could be alone here and think, which sounded great right about then.

_“Why would you not come to your comrades for aid?!”_

_”Steve…how long has this been going on for?”_

Steve’s eyes widened as he walked into a huge crowd of people in the building. He froze up, confused, before he saw the setup in the front of the large, empty room they were in. Those were…speakers! And one of those DJ board…thingys!

A party?? Here?? But…why?!

 _”Please, Steven.”_ Beseeching. Despairing. Pained. Because of him. 

Steve swallowed hard as the loud beats began to thrum through the concrete and reverberate through his chest. The melody drowned out the intrusive thoughts in his head, and he was blissfully distracted by the bouncing, rocking bodies surrounding him.

 _"And do you do this often?!”_ This…all this was… his fault…his faul―

The thought was gone, drowned out by the dynamic music thudding through and around him. Steve smiled faintly as he was given a bit of relief from the mental and emotional struggle. His tense muscles relaxed a bit, and he breathed easier for the first time in hours. This was…dubstep, wasn’t it? He faintly recalled Clint telling him about it…

Idly, he noticed it was pitch black outside by this point… Huh. He’d been walking for longer than he’d thought…

The Captain was surprised when someone bumped into his hip, and turned to see a grinning face, highlighted by the flashing, colorful lights above them. 

”Hey, funny hat, man!” Pleasantly deep voice, even with the deafening music overtop it. And an accent… it was Russian! It was alluring, actually. Red hair, Steve was pretty sure, judging from when the white lights flashed over them. Wavy and somewhat long. Pretty adorable, actually…oh, he was supposed to say something to the guy. Right: social interaction, that was a thing!

”Ah, um, thank you! I don’t…actually know what it means!” Steve confessed. He ran a hand through his bangs nervously, messing them up. Someone near him passed a couple of girls some colorful pills, and his eyes widened. _Oh_. Just what had he walked into…??

A rust-colored brow rose. “…you…are just a- _dorably_ innocent, aren’t you?” The man laughed, and with his serum-enhanced vision Steve could make out slightly widened pupils and a somewhat flushed face. The guy was little tipsy, then.

Steve’s cheeks pinked. “Uh, I guess? Is that a compliment? Thank you?”

Another throaty laugh, and the man wrapped an arm around Steve’s narrow waist, guiding the stunned blonde to the dance floor. “I like you! You’re funny! I’m Oliver, what’s your name, handsome?”

Oh. That was a flirt. He was being flirted with. Hm. 

Steve stuttered as Oliver began to gyrate his hips, holding to Steve’s waist and helping him move with him. He didn’t know how to dance, shit… “I…Steve. Nice to meet you, Oliver.”

The handsome redhead spun them and started getting more into the movements as the beat to the song dropped. “Call me Ollie, Steve. Nice to meet you too…” 

Steve found getting into the movements wasn’t actually that hard, with Oliver leading him. It was energetic. The bass of the song was making his chest shake, but not like when he had his bouts of panic. It was pleasant. The man holding him was striking in his easy joy and patience as he guided Steve in the art of twenty-first century dancing. Steve soon lost himself in the dark eyes of his new companion and the entrancing song, letting himself focus on nothing but the feel of the music and body moving with his. 

As the bass picked up again, Oliver moved closer, pressing against Steve as they rocked to the rhythm of the song. The blonde was probably red by now, feeling himself harden involuntarily against Oliver like this as well as the half hard flesh he could feel rubbing into his thigh…he’d just met the man, yet…he didn’t want this to stop. He was still numb, but…this was sort of… _fun_.

After an unknown number of songs, Oliver pulled Steve closer still and nipped his earlobe, shouting to be heard so close to the large speakers, “Want to move this to my apartment, Steve? I’m right down the road…” 

Steve tensed a little at the low tone and lewd implications. He…didn’t do casual things like this, really. Well, he had before, during the war, but it was never very…much of anything. The sex was just that: sex. Without knowing the person, it didn’t really mean anything. 

But maybe a hot, fun distraction like this was what he needed. He didn’t want to stop and give himself time to think and get lost in his thoughts once more, so why not? 

Steve nodded, pressing a somewhat shy kiss to Oliver’s cheek before the redhead tugged him out of the crowd, then out of the building. The man kept glancing back to Steve and shooting him little grins as they walked down the sidewalk, hands still clasped. Steve smiled a little. Oliver was nice….easygoing. And open. 

Before Steve knew it the two were rushing up a few flights of stairs, and the second Oliver closed the door behind them Steve found his back being pressed into the white wood. A hot mouth met his, insistent but not overly-rough. Steve tasted vodka and beer and moaned softly, kissing back heatedly. He could easily overpower Oliver, but…it was a bit exhilarating in its own way, to let himself be pushed around a little. 

Oliver made a deep noise in the back of his throat, biting on Steve’s lip before deepening the kiss. Steve gasped softly, his grip flying to Oliver’s waist and tightening there. He was mindful of his strength in everything he did, but fought for control over the kiss with vigor. It wasn’t in his nature to submit easily, no matter how much he wanted to feel a little…controlled.

Oliver wasn’t having it. His hand stroked its way down Steve’s t-shirt, shoving the open leather jacket out of the way. He shoved a hand under Steve’s shirt and scratched up his chest, moaning faintly at the feeling of hard muscles beneath his fingers. Steve, twisting his tongue and still nowhere near passivity, reached down and gripped Oliver’s semi through the man’s jeans. 

The redhead hummed in pleasure, finger moving to one pink nipple and pinching. Steve’s lips fell a little slack in the kiss, and when Oliver smirked and twisted the nub in his fingers Steve choked on a groan.

Oliver pulled away, lidded eyes looking into Steve’s amusedly. In the back of his mind, he was pleased they were pretty much the same height. Made things easier. Oliver moved his attentions to his other nipple, letting his mouth run a little as he watched and felt Steve’s hips move in aborted little grinds against him. 

”Oh? You like these little buds played with, hm?” The redhead gripped Steve’s pec, squeezing and messaging and loving the way the blonde squirmed against him, baby blues hooded and shyly eager. 

”Mm…y-yeah…” Steve breathed. God, the things that husky Russian accent did to him…As Oliver’s hand strayed to the base of his neck he expected to be pulled into another kiss. Instead, Steve’s hat was shoved off his head and dropped to the ground, and the blonde gasped raggedly as his hair was yanked, forcing his head back so that kiss-swollen lips could latch onto his neck. Steve let out involuntary “ah’s” every time Oliver nipped or sucked particularly hard, and the redhead caught on quickly. Soon Oliver was sucking a helluva hickey onto Steve’s pulse point, tugging and flicking Steve’s nipple at the same time. He moaned as Steve’s thigh ground into his own crotch, moving his head and biting down on another unmarked spot on Steve’s neck. He pulled his hair more firmly, earning a little grunt, and marked the blonde’s neck until he was satisfied no one would question Steve had been with a possessive, rough partner that night. 

Oliver pulled away to admire the now splotched pale skin before him, tugging Steve off the door and to the bed. Steve went willingly, stepping over his discarded hat and following Oliver’s lead. He crawled to straddle the man as he lay on his back on the bed. They shuffled up so Oliver’s head was atop his pillows, and Steve leaned down, rucking Oliver’s shirt up and pressing searing kisses along his waistband. The redhead bit his lip hard, and quickly yanked his shirt off. Steve glanced up and smiled at his partner. The blonde noticed two large scars going under Oliver’s pecs and frowned. Those looked…surgical? Oh― _oh_. 

”…sooo, this isn’t gonna be a problem, is it?” Oliver asked. Steve looked up to see cinnamon colored eyes careful but bordering on defensive. The blonde kissed Oliver in answer, stroking gently down the orange stubble. When he pulled away he breathed, “Not at all. I uh… well, you lead, okay? Whatever you’re comfortable with, Ollie.”

Oliver relaxed, looking relieved Steve wasn’t reacting negatively. Steve slowly brought a bruise into blossom on Oliver’s neck, grinding down on him as he did so. The Captain knew about transgender people, just not…a ton. He pulled back and sat up, letting his hand run down the lithe chest beneath him. 

”I admit, I don’t know a ton about this kind of thing. But I know you’re a man, and that you’re a hot one, at that. So we can do whatever you’re comfortable with…may I?” Steve asked, fingers hovering over the long, horizontal scars. 

The blonde knew he’d said the right thing when Oliver smiled easily and widely, nodding. As Steve let his fingers explore the thin, faint scars that were partially hidden by the swell of Oliver’s pecs, the redhead explained briefly: “Well, you know the basics, then. I obviously don’t have…mm!” Steve smirked, kissing the end of one scar again before moving to Oliver’s nipple. He was a little disappointed to find they weren’t nearly as sensitive as his own, but moved on in favor of tracing the redhead’s abs with his tongue as he kept talking. 

”I…mmm, your tongue should be _illegal…_ I have a strap-on I rather…like using. Do you―ah!” Steve had bitten on the skin just above Oliver’s belly button. “Do you bottom, Steve??”

Steve sat up again, letting Oliver’s grip on his waist guide the motions of his hips. He nodded. “Yeah…s’ been a while, but…” Bucky had been the last and the only one he’d ever actually… _felt_ something with, intimately. His other encounters had just been…hollow. Not nearly as heart-pounding and passionate, but still fun. 

Steve realized he still felt…well, _something,_ in Oliver’s pants, and frowned gently. “What…ah, sorry if this is rude, but… what am I grinding against, exactly…??” Steve asked, cheeks bright pink. 

Oliver laughed, eyes crinkling. “Packer. It’s…a fake dick, basically. Like a dildo, but not for…such purposes…” 

Steve “ooooh-ed” softly. “That makes sense… but how…your beard, and your voice is nice and deep, how…?” 

”Testosterone injections. Things to help trans people transition are much better nowadays, so,” Oliver explained with a smile. Steve was surprised, but happy about the news. 

”That’s good!” 

Oliver laughed again at the pure kindness in Steve’s voice and smile. “Yes it is! Now, I wanna get my lips on those sensitive tits of yours…” Taking dirty pride at the redness of Steve’s cheeks, Oliver sat up and shoved the leather jacket off the blonde’s shoulders, then yanked it away and tossed it off the bed carelessly. He frowned when the man in his lap froze, eyes beginning to look panicked. 

Shit, how could he have forgotten about the healing injuries?! How was he going to explain any of that, much less the cuts...?! Steve mentally berated himself for not thinking of that when Oliver had first offered to take him home.

”What, what’s wrong?” Oliver looked down as he grabbed Steve’s hand, looking worriedly for any sign of a mishap. “Do you not want your jacket o― oh.” His brown eyes fell on the cuts lining Steve’s forearm. By now they were scabbed, but still spoke volumes. And the fading yellow and red bruises all up the blonde’s ribs…His other arm, lined with stitches…

“Oh, Steve…” 

Steve was panicking, hearing the angry, terrified shouts of his teammates all over again, he tried to pull away, thinking Oliver would surely only take pity on him and find him revolting, but his baby blues flew wide when Oliver’s fingers smoothed over the torn skin gently. Steve froze again, at a complete loss for what to do or say. 

”I-I…”

”Shush. It’s okay.” Oliver bit his lip, but kissed Steve soundly until he felt the blonde relax against him a little once more. “I know where you are right now, it’s okay. My thighs are …covered in scars…” the redhead wondered in the back of his mind why he felt so comfortable with Steve already. But the man radiated honestly, trustworthiness, and just… _good_. He assumed Steve was coming from an abusive home, and resolved to ask about it later and help the man however he could. No one deserved to go through that…

The soft words and empathic gaze had Steve relaxing fully within seconds. He didn’t feel judged or pressured, with Oliver, just a sense of…companionship. The blonde kissed him again, their tongues beating against each other’s gently as they worked themselves back into a fog of lust. Oliver reluctantly urged Steve off his lap so he could go grab some things. When he stood he turned to Steve and, without stopping to think, ordered, “I want you naked when I get back to this bed, got it?”

Steve chuckled, jokingly drawling, “Yessir,” only to raise a brow at the soft moan that pulled form Oliver’s lips. He licked his lips as he leaned back on the pillows, asking, “Oh? You like when I call you sir?” 

Oliver smirked as he unbuttoned his pants and shoved those and his boxers down. Steve followed suit, tossing the garments where he figured his jacket had fallen. His blue eyes bashfully but hungrily took in Oliver’s lithe form as the man bent to the bottom of his closet. Steve bit his lip as Oliver returned to the bed, setting a decently large black strap-on, a condom, and lube beside Steve as he leaned over him, capturing his lips in another searing kiss. 

By the time Oliver pulled away Steve’s lips were swollen and parted as he tried to draw enough air. The blonde reached down and ran a gentle hand over the scarred thigh of his partner, just as Oliver had done to his arm. He was surprised by the heat behind the next kiss he was pulled into, and groaned into it. 

Oliver pulled away as he ground back into Steve and along the blonde’s erection, earning two deep moans. The redhead bent to bite at the swell of one of Steve’s pecs, chuckling when the body beneath him jerked into the sting. 

”I wanna see you writhing beneath me, but at the same time, I really want that pretty mouth of yours on my dick. You see my dilemma?”

Steve’s face turned red all over again, and Oliver traced his rosy cheekbone. “Mm, and I love seeing you all flustered for me… you first,” Oliver said lowly. “Also, does the traffic light system work for you?" 

Oliver received a confused look. He frowned a little. If Steve was doing this with others, playing around with "sir" and such... yet didn't know even the basic traffic light system... he could get hurt. He'd have to ask and maybe explain a little later. But for now... 

"If you want me to slow down, say yellow. To stop, say red. If I ask how you’re doin’ and you’re good, say green. Like a traffic light, got it?” The nod was all Oliver needed. 

”Good. Now… I want to see what noises I can wring out of you.” 

Steve’s mouth opened to speak, but his head ended up dropping back onto the pillow with a wobbly moan when Oliver sucked one of his nipples into his mouth. The redhead rolled his tongue along the nub, and then flicked across it. He hummed at the tensing muscles beneath him, pleased by how sensitive Steve’s chest was. It was sexy as hell. The vibrations earned him another buck of the blonde’s hips. Steve’s cock was leaking more by the second, and it lubricated their movements perfectly. 

”Ah, Ollie…” Steve’s hand came up to fist in Oliver’s hair. He felt the man smile against him before he moved to his other nipple, biting around the areola and earning a gasp. Oliver pulled back to blow cool air on the nub, enjoying the tiny shiver it sent through Steve. 

”Your tits are so sensitive…”

Steve whined softly, face burning again at the crude word. “Oh, yeah, I can tell you like it when I talk like that.” Oliver pinched the nipple in front of his mouth as he spoke, looking up at his partner with a devilish smirk. “Judging by how wet you are for me, I’m willin’ to bet I can get you to come just from this. What do you think?” 

”Oh. Oh, God…! I-I don’t think― ah!” Steve was cut off when Oliver’s scorching lips sealed around his nipple again, sucking insistently while his hands continued to fondle his pecs. Oliver pulled their hips apart, wanting Steve to come _only_ from his chest being played with. 

“Uhn, Ollie, I don’t think I can…!” Another groan cut the protest off. 

”You will,” Oliver said firmly. He bit at the underside of one pec, getting a fun idea. Steve had seemed alright with it before… “And what did you call me??”

Blown blue eyes looked down at the redhead, confused. “Ollie…ah, _Olli_ ― “

”Excuse me??” Oliver slapped Steve’s left pec, not bothering to try and avoid the damp, slightly reddened nub and knowing full well how much that probably stung. He was rewarded with a sharp “ahn!” 

Going by the twitch Oliver felt against his abdomen, Steve was very okay with the slight pain play. 

”Uh, um… ah!” Steve tried to think as Oliver took his nipple back into his mouth, somehow managing to keep the suction on it while flicking his tongue over it. “Ahhhnn…s-sir. Sir? You wanted me to call you…sir?” 

Gentle licks rewarded Steve. “Very good, Steve.” Oliver went back to sucking hard, switching sides randomly. Whichever nipple his mouth wasn’t on was between his fingers, getting tugged, rubbed, or having a nail dragged gently along it. Steve’s gasps and moans came more frequently as his hips canted up rhythmically without his consent. He was close… Fuck, so close, but… 

”O-Oll―oh!” Steve was cut off by a particularly harsh twist of Oliver’s hand. He quickly corrected himself. “S-sir, sir, please, touch m…I can’t… _uhhnn…!”_ The blonde couldn’t articulate himself, much less get the embarrassing words out!

”You can and will,” Oliver told him. The redhead then bit down on Steve’s nipple, being careful but also not that gentle. He was rewarded with a soft cry as Steve’s hand gripped his hair tightly. The blonde’s back arched as he came untouched onto his abdomen, voice choking on more moans as Oliver’s tongue worked him through his orgasm. By the time the redhead pulled away, Steve’s nipples were bright red and matched his face, overwhelmed yet satiated.

”Now that. Was one of the sexiest things I’ve seen,” Oliver said with a half grin. Steve laughed breathlessly, licking his lips. 

”T-thanks…” He glanced down to where Oliver’s crotch hovered above his own and had to lick his lips all over again. “My turn?”

The redhead reached to his dresser and grabbed a tissue, cleaning the white streaks off his partner. His eyes darkened at the hungry look in Steve’s eyes. “Yeah…” 

Wide baby blues looked up at Oliver. “How d’ ya want me then, sir?” 

Oliver groaned, moving up to straddle Steve’s head. “You have no idea what you’re innocent act does to me…fuck, it shouldn’t have the effect on me it does.” Once he was right above Steve’s mouth he paused. “I’m clean. I trust you, so are you?” Steve nodded. He couldn’t exactly say it was impossible for him to catch or give anything, but… he trusted Oliver too. In retrospect, he probably shouldn’t trust the redhead so much considering he’d met him about two hours ago. But eh. Minor details. 

”Good. Color?” 

Steve gave a tiny smile. “Green...” His tongue flicked out over the raised, noticably longer than average nub between Oliver’s legs. He heard a soft gasp form above him and felt a twinge of pride. This was a strange yet exciting sort of mix between going down on a girl and guy. Well, he was going down on a guy, but…the mechanics weren’t quite the same. Steve found he was very, very okay with that slight difference as he pulled out the tricks he hadn’t used since Bucky and the USO tour. 

”Uhn, fuck, like that, Steve,” Oliver breathed, hips rocking forward. Steve pulled back briefly, running his fingers down and looking up with inquisitive eyes. 

”…side effect of testosterone…? Also, this okay?” The blonde’s fingers ghosted over Oliver’s opening, asking permission. 

”Ah…yeah. Got brains and looks, huh?” The two chuckled at that. Oliver bit his lip, and then shook his head. “I prefer not. Stick to― ohhh, yeah, y’ got it…” he laughed breathlessly as Steve immediately went back to licking up the length of Oliver’s clit. 

”Mmmm…you look good like this…” Oliver smirked as he watched Steve’s face color. “You just love dirty talk, don’t ya? You’re in luck, Steve, ‘cause that’s my forte…ah, fuck!” Steve had sucked and fluttered his tongue on the tip. Oliver’s hips jerked, and he fisted his hand in messy blonde hair, holding Steve in place. 

”Don’t you dare stop, St―uhh…!” Oliver didn’t last long after that, seeing those plush lips on him like that; all eager enthusiasm and tender pleasure. The redhead cried out softly as he came, hips stuttering as they tried to continue their rocking motions while Steve licked him through it, and then brought him gently down. He pulled away when Oliver began to shiver from the bad kind of oversensitivity. 

Steve licked the last traces of Oliver from his lips as the man above him caught his breath. He moaned when Oliver slid back down and kissed the wetness off his chin before capturing his lips again, coaxing his taste from Steve’s lips. 

They pulled away, looking at each other with hooded eyes. Oliver was surprised when he brushed against Steve’s once again hard cock, and blinked. “Well…someone’s energetic, hm?”

Steve flushed yet again. “Er― s-sorry…”

”Oh no, don’t apologize…” Oliver reached and grabbed the strap-on, leisurely fastening it around himself and positioning it so that it would rub against his clit with every movement. He paused, holding up the foil wrapper. 

”You want this on? Some prefer it, say it makes it easier to clean up or…something. Or they don’t trust that I clean the damn thing.” 

Steve laughed, running a hand down Oliver’s chest and shaking his head. “I trust you "clean the damn thing", so nah. Wanna feel you, c’mon…” his hips swiveled suggestively, and Oliver moaned softly at the sight. He tossed the condom aside and grabbed the lube instead, coating two fingers and trailing them down Steve’s cock. The blonde sucked in a sharp breath through his nose as the slick fingers stroked back up…then down again...over his straining balls, then down further before circling his hole gently. Oliver didn’t look anywhere than down to his fingers to appreciate the view or at Steve’s face to gauge his reactions. He massaged until the pucker relaxed to his liking before slipping one finger in, thrusting in small motions once he was up to the last knuckle. 

Steve tried to draw enough breath, finding it was surprisingly difficult to do so. Fuck…it’d been a long time since he’d felt anything like this…but it was good. The dragging burn as Oliver stretched him with a second finger, the gentle kisses pressed along the dark marks on his neck and collar, the heat of another’s skin against his own, a little damp with sweat... 

Oliver pulled back as he started to scissor his fingers and then added a third, thrusting them a little harder and watching the gasp spill from Steve’s lips. “Color…?”

Steve cried out when Oliver’s fingers delved a little deeper and curled, cock twitching hard. “Green! Fuck, green…” 

The redhead smirked and slicked more lube onto the strap-on before lining up. He leaned down, hands behind Steve’s knees and groaning as he found the blonde was very flexible. Oliver could bend him practically in half and kiss him, knees to his chest. Which he did, entering Steve at the same time, slowly but steadily. He kissed Steve with a simmering heat as the blonde’s lips went slack against his, and swallowed the moans and gasps that spilled into the kiss. 

Far in the back of his mind, Steve realized he shouldn’t be using another person like this. He didn’t even feel that spark he’d felt with Bucky…this was nothing more than a hot distraction. And he liked Oliver― the redhead didn’t deserve to be used like this…! 

The thoughts were shoved out of his head as Oliver started to move, angling just right and making Steve moan and keen with every thrust. Oliver groaned softly, grinding deep and giving himself pleasure as he did so. He gave deep, hard thrusts, taking pleasure and pride at every tensing of Steve’s muscles and the twitches his dripping cock made onto his stomach. 

”Ollie…Ollie…ah!” Oliver had bitten down on his neck again in reprimand. 

”What was that, Steve?”

”Nnn…sir…si― oh!” Steve’s head thwumped back into the pillow as Oliver wrapped a hand around his cock, pulling out almost all the way every time before ramming back home. 

”Mmmm…I think I like you best this way. All pliant for me, wanting anything I’ll give you…” he leaned forward, biting Steve’s nipple again and grinning at the hoarse cry that tore from his throat and the sharp buck of Steve’s hips. 

”I don’t think I’m gonna let y’ come just yet. Want you to come just from my cock. You can do that, can’t ya? I see how…uh, yeah… how much you like gettin’ that pretty hole of yours fucked. Mm…Steve, shit, you feel _good…”_

Steve whined softly, head shaking from side to side. The firm grip around his cock was the only thing that kept him from coming. “S-sir…! Ah, ah, ahh, God…!” He tried to arch up and kiss Oliver, but an equally firm hand on his chest had him lying back down. 

”Wanna watch. Wanna watch your pretty tits bouncing and your face when I do this _just_ right…” a slight angle change and Steve was crying out even louder with every thrust, hand gripping with restrained strength at Oliver’s ass, then his arm, then his hip…wherever he could reach. 

”Wanna come, pretty boy?” He cursed softly in Russian at the frantic nod he received. Oliver smiled even as he moaned at the stimulation he was receiving from the strap-on, letting go of Steve’s cock and pushing his legs more firmly into his chest. 

He paused his hips, grinding side to side and knowing it wasn’t _quite_ enough. “What do you say when you want something, hm?”

Red down to his sore nipples, Steve groaned deep in his chest. “I…uhnn...” Oliver taking his decisions away was exactly what he’d needed, apparently. The submissive pleas fell from his lips easily when he realized just how _close_ he was. “Please…p-please, sir, I need…!”

Oliver relented when he saw just how fucked Steve’s pupils were. He groaned, leaning down and sucking just below Steve’s ear, leaving another dark mark. At the same time he let his hips snap forward, giving them both the near painfully accurate, jarring thrusts they both needed. Steve came untouched once more with a choked shout, striping white up to his pecs. The sight and feeling of Steve tensing and arching under him had Oliver coming with a moan he muffled into Steve’s reddened skin. 

Catching their breaths, Oliver pulled carefully out of his partner, kissing away the small whimper of complaint as Steve was left empty. The blonde jerked a little, letting out an aborted breath when Oliver took another tissue and gently cleaned the excess lube from between his cheeks, then the come from his chest. Two deep hums of contentment were made into the lazy, satisfied kiss the two shared before Oliver pulled away, taking the strap-on off. 

”That. Was amazing. You, my friend, are one of the prettiest little subs I’ve ever seen,” Oliver said a little breathlessly, moving the items on the bed off so the two could slip under the covers. Steve hesitated even as he followed Oliver’s lead, blinking at the redhead as they settled beneath the blankets. 

”Sub?” What did that mean? Like a sandwich…?”

Oliver blinked right back, running a hand through Steve’s adorably messy sex hair. “You’re…innocent act…isn’t an act, is it?” Steve shook his head slowly, and Oliver pursed his lips. His previous worries had been right, then...

”…remind me to explain BDSM to you in the morning. Keep doing shit like this and you could end up way over your head…don’t want you getting’ hurt…” he moved reluctantly out of the bed to turn off the lights, crawling back on the bed and pausing on his knees when he heard Steve’s tentative question. 

”Okay...thanks……but…um. You don’t…I mean, if you don’t want me to stay I can get out of your hair…” His previous one-night-stands hadn’t wanted his to stick around, and he didn’t want to annoy. 

Oliver rolled his eyes, laying back down and pulling the blond to his chest. He ran a soothing hand down Steve’s back, able to read him well. The man needed comfort― he’d soaked up that and any sort of praise or compliment like a sponge. Those cuts looked recent as well…and the look in his eyes when Oliver had first talked to him, as well as whenever he let Steve’s mind wander too far tonight… Oliver could tell Steve was not in a very good place at the moment. 

”I want you here as long as you’re okay with it.” The two were able to relax more once Steve nodded to that, and soon their breaths were nearly in sync. 

”I…I’m pretty good at reading people. Right now, you need a friend. And I like you, so I’m more than happy to be here for ya,” Oliver continued. “So stay the night, or as long as you want…get some rest…and we can talk about those bruises and such I saw tomorrow.”

Steve went rigid. Shit. He’d thought Oliver wasn’t going to ask about the lingering injuries form the building! Shit!

Oliver rubbed Steve’s arm, heedless of the rough scabs beneath his hand. “Shh, it’s okay. Steve! I’ve seen abuse before, okay? You don’t have to―”

”Abuse?! This isn’t―!” But hell, how could he explain without telling him…?! 

Olive frowned deeply, and then sat up. “Okay, fine. We’re doing this now, then I’m gonna get you to rest if it kills me.” He huffed out a breath, and then looked at his companion with a stern, serious expression. 

“Steve, you’re ribs are clearly bruised to hell, I wouldn't be suprised if they'd been broken, as well as both your arms, and your head has stitches in it. So does your arm and ribs, even though I can tell they’re mostly dissolved… do I really need to explain why I think you’re being abused? The only surprising thing about it is I’m sure you could beat the shit out of whoever it is, with those muscles!”

Steve sat up, worrying the edge of the covers between his fingers. Finally he sighed and stood up. He nibbled his lip, looking at Oliver nervously. “Look…this is probably an awful idea. I’m probably not thinking straight or...something. But I feel like I can trust you. So: my full name is Steven Grant Rogers.” 

He waited until the recognition of the name sparked in Oliver’s eyes, and before the redhead could object, Steve reached down and grabbed one of the feet of the bed and lifted it effortlessly. Oliver squawked, eyes widening almost comically as Steve held him in the air for a moment before setting him and the bed back down. The blonde sat crisscross on the edge of the bed, clearly too nervous to come closer. 

Oliver moved closer, laying a tentative hand on Steve’s shoulder before letting his hands fall into Steve’s. He sat crisscross in front of Steve, thumbs ghosting over the man’s knuckles as he took in what just happened. 

”…you’re telling me… I just fucked Captain America. Captain. America. _Captain. America.”_

Steve laughed, bowing his head a little before nodding. “Ha! Well…yeah.” He looked back up, a shy smile on his face. “Injuries are from a mission. Remember the falling building on the news? Yeah, I was kind of under that. Not a fun time.” 

Oliver’s brows drew together, and he nodded, forcing himself not to freak out and ask for an autograph or… fanboy too badly. Steve was hurting. And he was trusting Oliver. 

Steve didn’t need a fan right now.

“That makes sense…but…” one of his hands traced over the scabs lining the blonde’s arm, causing Steve to tense. The blonde forced himself not to pull away. “…why would…Steve, you― wait, should I call you Captain Rogers now? Is it rude to call you Steve??” The redhead asked, panicking a tiny bit. 

A chuckle. “Steve is fine………” Oliver was patient, waiting for Steve to continue.

“I…it… helps. My…the team…they found out. And I left. I didn’t mean to end up in that party, but…I lost track of where I was walking to…” Once he started talking, it was so easy to spill everything. Steve should be more careful. This could be a HYDRA agent, for all he knew! But…Oliver was… _Oliver._

Why was it so comfortable and easy, around Oliver? Did he need a friend that badly…?

The redhead sighed, a crease still between his brows. “Well…this is…surprising. Captain America: in a rave. The party,” he clarified when he saw the confused expression. “And no wonder you don’t know some stuff… makes sense now. Okay, okay…um…” He shrugged. “I don’t know what to say… well, I guess I kind of do. Steve, you can talk to me, okay? This is probably an odd way to meet friends, but… I’m gonna give you my number tomorrow, and we’ll talk more later…okay? But you’ve gotta…you’ve gotta get back. The rest of the Avengers must be so worried, Steve!” 

Steve looked down, ashamed. “I…didn’t want to worry them…I just……couldn’t handle it.”

Oliver got up, slipping on some sweatpants and tugging Steve to his feet. He looked into the sky blue eyes, drawing on all his past experience to try and say the right words. 

”Steve, I don’t know everything about you. I know a fair deal about Captain America, because he’s my role model. But Captain America isn’t Steve Rogers― Steve Rogers is Captain America. There’s a difference.” He swallowed before continuing. 

“The Avengers are sort of a mystery. I don’t know any of them on a personal level, unfortunately,” he said with a small smile, “but I know you a little. Not because we just had sex, but because I’ve been where you are. Cutting, running away, finding any distraction you can…” 

Steve looked away in shame, beginning to stutter out an apology. Oliver shushed him. “No, stop. It’s okay. But dammit man, you need to let your team help you, okay?” Wide, vulnerable, terrified baby blue eyes looked into Oliver’s own. “I know it’s scary as fuck, but…you have to. Can you do that for me? Go talk to them, let them help, let them _in_.”

Steve stood still for a long moment, pondering that. Oliver was speaking from experience, he could tell. But he… could he really let down his guard, after all this time? “But…but they don’t need…I’m not……” Oliver waited, not about to let Steve get away with a half answer. 

Oliver reminded Steve of Natasha and Tony. And not just because of the Russian heratige, red hair, or penchant and love for dirty talk and seeing Steve flustered and red. 

”I’m not worth… that _effort.”_ Once it was out it made the knot in his chest loosen just a tad. 

Oliver’s face creasing in empathy made his chest start to hurt all over again though. “Oh, Steve…trust me, you are. Hero or not, you’re worth the effort. You got me??” Steve looked skeptical still, but Oliver’s stubborn gaze had him nodding hesitantly. 

”A-alright…”

”Good…now, go take a shower for me, okay?” Steve pursed his lips, hand unconsciously coming up to rub and scratch at his scabs. The thought of showering led to the thought of going back to the tower…and then the team would be mad and they’d make him explain and they’d think he was crazy and they’d lock him up or worse just kick him out and not want to deal with him because why would they bother―

”Steve!” Oliver said sternly, yanking his hand away from his arm. He could see those blue yes getting lost in a dark, panic-filled place, and he wasn’t going to let it happen. The blonde blinked rapidly as he was yanked out of his daze, re-focusing on the warm cinnamon eyes before him. “Do I need to make that an order? You seemed to follow those alright…” He wasn’t going to take advantage of Steve’s lack of knowledge about BDSM, but if he could use it to get Steve to take care of himself right now, he was definitely going to!

”I-I…why do I... _want_ to listen...?? Is this that BSDM thing you mentioned…?” Steve asked, frowning. 

”Yes. And it’s BDSM. You’re a sub. Submissive. Or at least a Switch. Like, you can switch between being dominant or submissive. For now, all you need to know is that it means I can use it to help you take care of yourself and go get some help,” Oliver said, picking up the scattered clothes for the Captain. He shoved the bundle into Steve’s hands. 

“So, Steve: go take a shower. No cutting, don’t even touch the razor. Just wash off, and try not to think too hard.” A thought occurred to the redhead. “Back at the club, the music seemed to calm you…or maybe keep you distracted from your thoughts…I have a speaker I use in the bath sometimes, do you want me to turn it on?” 

Steve worried the edge of his pants between his fingers. He shouldn’t trust Oliver…he shouldn’t…but he did. He could listen, and Oliver would make sure he took care of himself. For some reason, in the back of his mind, he knew that. The blonde nodded silently, watching his new friend grab an old iPod and bring it into the bathroom. Next thing Steve knew, energetic and soothing dubstep was washing from the bathroom out to where he was standing by the bed. Immediately the seemingly haphazard rhythm of the notes forced Steve to focus on the music instead of his frantic thoughts and worries. The blonde smiled faintly at Oliver as he came back out. 

”Go on,” Oliver said, motioning into the bathroom. Steve headed in, and before shutting the door Oliver tugged him into a sweet kiss. 

As he turned, setting his clothes down and turning on the water, Steve marveled at how easy it was to focus with the music playing. It was like background noise, but it left room only for easy, productive thoughts. 

_Turn on the water. Set clothes aside to put on once out. Get in. Wet hair, rinse off. Soap. Wash. Shampoo. Smells nice. Sweet and light. Wash hair. Conditioner. Shave face. But no, Ollie said not to touch the razor. Don’t shave then. The silver is too tempting. But calm, no shaving, so no temptation. Deal with stubble later. Feels weird to have it. Oh well. Rinse. Nice song. Like it. Who’s it by? I’ll have to look it up later. Step out. Turn water off. Dry off. Get dressed. Boxer briefs. Pants. Shirt. Belt. Easy-peasy. Go back to Ollie._

And just like that, Steve was stepping out of the now slightly steamed bathroom to find Oliver on his bed sipping what smelled like the chai tea Bruce always drank. The redhead looked up and smiled when he saw Steve’s damp hair and relaxed expression. 

”Good… good job. See, not so hard, yeah?” Steve nodded, hand moving to his arm again. 

A sharp “No, Steve,” from Oliver had him worrying the end of his sleeve between his fingers and his lip between his teeth instead. He followed Oliver’s motion to the cup of tea for himself, and blinked. He sat beside Oliver and sipped the hot liquid. It _was_ sort of soothing…no wonder Bruce drank it so much…

”You smell like me now…” Oliver said affectionately, moving Steve’s bangs off his forehead. The blonde smiled at him. 

”Thank you… you’re good at this. Helping.” 

Oliver smiled widely and easily. “I try. And anytime.” He headed into the bathroom and soon the music stopped. Steve made a small noise of complaint, the absence of the modern music setting him on edge almost immediately. Oliver came back out with the small iPod and a pair of orange headphones that nearly matched his rusty hair, handing the items to Steve. 

He waited until the blonde had drained the last of his tea before setting the headphones over Steve’s head. “Okay. I’m going to turn this on where it left off, and you’re going to listen to it on the way home. Do you want me to drive you? The tower is where you stay, right?” A nod from Steve. “Well, that’s a ways away. Like, an hour walk. And it’s…” Oliver glanced to the clock beside the bed. “…two a.m. So I don’t want you walking by yourself in this state regardless of if you have my music to calm you or not. So I’m going to drive you, okay?” 

Steve nodded, running his finger over the smooth buttons on the iPod in his hand. Modern technology had taken some getting used to, but Tony had walked him through it patiently and eagerly. He’d picked it up pretty quick under the billionaire’s guidance, and now he found it was kind of…cool. He should go out and buy an iPod, maybe…oh, but his StarkPhone played music, didn’t it? He’d have to ask Tony about how to make it do that. 

Oliver got up and grabbed his shoes and slipped a hoodie on. He took his keys off the kitchen table and motioned for Steve to come. The blonde did so, slipping his own shoes back on and bending over to pick up the hat still lying on the floor. Oliver took it from him with a small grin and put it on. 

As they left and headed down to Oliver’s car the redhead said, “You keep the iPod and headphones, and I’ll keep the hat. It’s incentive to see each other again.” The two got into Oliver’s car, and the redhead cursed softly, leaning over to open the glovebox. “Oh, wait…” he grabbed a pen and took Steve’s hand, writing his number on the back of his hand.

”There. Call or text me tomorrow, okay? I might be asleep for a while though…you wore me out.” Steve turned a pale pink color, much to Oliver’s amusement. “When the team tries to talk to you, don’t run away again. Talk. Then get some rest. Got it?” 

”Yeah…” the ride back to the tower was spent talking quietly about music, and Oliver gave Steve some artist suggestions for good dubstep, since the blonde seemed to have taken a liking to it. Steve found talking to Oliver easy and pleasant, and the relaxed conversation helped him not dwell on where they were going and what he would have to face once he was there. 

*****

As Oliver and Steve were on their way back to the tower, the Avengers were spread out over the couches in the living room, watching TV. They had all piled into the common room once they’d eaten; paying half attention to the movies that came on. They watched quite a few as they waited and waited for Jarvis to tell them Steve was back. They grew more and more worried as the sun set and more and more restless as nothing was heard from the suits out searching either. 

The worst was in their minds. Steve in the bottom of a river below a bridge. Or broken and bloody at the bottom of a tall building. Or―

But no. They had to believe he’d be back. That he wouldn’t do anything stupid. 

…they prayed to deities they didn’t even believe in that Steve would come back in one piece. 

Tony stood from the couch suddenly, drawing the attention of the others. 

”Tony, what―” 

Tony cut Clint off. “His floor. And his room on this floor. His knives and anything else he might be using. We need to take them so he can’t use them.”

Clint and Bruce’s eyes widen a little. “Of course, how could I have forgotten…”Bruce muttered. Clint stood, ready to head up and look, but Natasha motioned for him to stay. 

“Tony and I will go.”

Thor, Clint, and Bruce smiled. “Alright.” Clint headed to the kitchen, saying, “I’ll move the knives here to…somewhere else. Tony, is there a place here we can―?”

”No, leave them. We need them to cook since we usually do that on this floor,” Bruce said, waving a hand dismissively. Clint frowned. 

”But if he’s desperate enough, he’ll… and the throwing knives down in the gym…” 

”Jarvis, new protocols: If Steve tries to hurt himself in any way, alert whoever is closest to him so we can stop him.” 

”A wise idea, Man of Iron, to use the man in the walls to help protect Steven…” Thor said, a small smile on his face. 

Bruce chimes in: “And if he picks up a knife to use for cooking, or practicing down in the gym, still let whoever is closest know so we can come watch him. Just in case.” 

”Yes sirs. Anything else?” The AI asks. 

”Monitor Steve’s vitals. Just in case. And also, if he shows symptoms of a panic attack, alert whoever is closest,” Natasha said. Clint raised a brow. 

”You think he’s been having panic attacks…?”

”I think it’s very possible. Regardless, it’s a risk for the future. If he can’t hurt himself like he usually does…well, he’s been doing this since he was fourteen. The withdrawal is probably going to hit him hard, and I wouldn’t be surprised if something like a panic attack happened when he couldn’t hurt himself as a coping method.” 

”Good call. You’re right…” Bruce said sadly, brows drawn. It was hard to think like this―to see their Captain like this and have to take such precautions. But it was very worth it if it would keep Steve safe and help him get better. 

Tony and Natasha headed to the elevator after that. On the way, Tony grabbed a rarely-used backpack form his room on the common floor to put everything in. When they got to Steve’s floor, Tony went straight to the kitchen. He put all the knives into the backpack, even the butter ones. He even took the pizza cutter― anything sharp. He wasn’t about to take any chances…not when he recalled the panicked, pure fear and pain in Steve’s eyes earlier that day in the kitchen. 

Natasha searched the living room and found a handgun in the locked drawer of the coffee table. (it took her seconds to pick the simple lock.) 

Presumably it was for defense. 

…Hopefully. 

Tony’s face fell when she flicked it open over the backpack, watching the bullets fall and _tink tink tink_ onto the metal of the knives. 

”I’m going to assume that was there for emergencies,” Tony said. “For my own sanity.” 

Natasha laid a comforting hand on the brunette’s shoulder as the headed into Steve’s bedroom. Another gun― a revolver this time instead of a .22―was unloaded and put into the backpack, along with scattered lighters disguised by cigarette packs. 

Natasha knew Steve didn’t smoke. 

She also found a pocket knife in Steve’s dresser drawer, as well as in the pocket of several of his coats. Heading into the bathroom, Tony took all the disposable razors Steve used to shave and Natasha found the couple blades beneath Steve’s medical supplies. Lastly, she took the X-Acto blade Steve had gotten for any art projects he might do from his art studio. 

The two paused, Tony lancing to the gleaming metal and array of colorful lighters inside the backpack with an unreadable expression. 

”This everything?” Tony asked, trying not to think too hard on just how many blades Steve had just… around. 

”Let me do one more sweep,” Natasha said. She left, starting in the kitchen. She checked every place she could think of there might be any knives or more lighters. Tony watched as she checked the living room, and then headed back to the bedroom, then the art studio. Nat was an assassin after all, so she would find any hidden weapons Steve had. 

The redhead came back with two more pocket knives and Steve's cheap pencil sharpeners. Tony blinked. “Where…?” They'd searched so many places...

”One knife under his bed, another behind some paints in his studio.” 

Tony looked pained. "And you think he might take the sharpeners apart...?"

"I'm not about to take the chance," Natasha said as she dropped the items in the bag. "He can use the electric sharpener on the common floor or something. Or I'll get him one for his studio." 

Tony's brows drew in pain even more, and Natasha gave him an understanding look as they headed back to the elevator.

”Nat…he had a lot hidden. He had a lot of backups.” Even Tony knew that wasn’t a good thing. 

”I know. I’m thinking this has been regular since he was fourteen.” The assassin bit the inside of her cheek hard, pissed at the thought. Steve didn’t deserve that…yet he had so many lighters and knives in pockets and drawers and hidden…

“…Damn serum. If he scarred or didn’t heal so fast, we might’ve found out sooner…”

Of course, it was also the only reason Steve was alive and fighting with them and…Tony sighed. 

“It’s not good, but he’ll get better. We can help him. We’re here for him,” Natasha said confidently.

Tony zipped the bag closed, tossing it over one shoulder and firmly ignoring the clinging of metal from inside. “And if he…doesn’t _want_ to get better? If he doesn’t let us help…?”

A beat of silence. 

”He has to. I’m not going to let Steve keep hurting. I won’t.”

Tony nodded. “Me neither. God, he’s only, what…twenty-six, technically? He’s practically a kid…!” He laughed darkly, head tilting back to thunk gently on the wall. 

”We’re the Avengers, Tony. If we can stop aliens from attacking, we can help our Captain out of depression.” 

Tony looked back down with a raised brow. “Depression? You think that’s what’s wrong…?”

A sigh. “PTSD, anxiety, bipolar disorder, depression…I honestly don’t know.” The doors opened, and Tony and Nat headed back to Tony’s room, hiding the bag in the back of his closet. “But whatever it is, we can fix it.” 

Tony nibbled his lip as they headed back to the others, who looked a tiny bit relieved now that they knew Steve’s floor was clean of dangerous items. Quietly, once he and Nat were back on the couch, he murmured, “You’re right. We got this.”

*****

Steve hardly noticed they were back in a familiar area until the car stopped in front of the tower, and Steve felt a spike of panic lace through him. He tensed all over, and looked to Oliver when the redhead laid a strong hand on his shoulder, sensing and seeing Steve’s anxiety. 

Steve’s eyes were brimming with emotion, but Oliver’s were steady and resolute. “You can do this.” An encouraging kiss was shared, and Oliver covered Steve’s hand, pressing play on the iPod. Steve took a deep breath and tried not to think too hard on anything as he got out of the car and slipped the iPod into his jeans pocket. He lowered his head as he walked in, hands in the pockets of his jacket. He turned as he walks in to see Oliver leaving, and waved before heading in. 

*****

The Avengers all perked up when Jarvis’ voice spoke up: “Captain Rogers has returned to the building.” They breathed a collective sigh of relief. Their Captain was finally home. 

”Is he hurt, Jarvis??” Bruce asked, now completely ignoring the movie that was playing. 

”He appears to be unharmed.”

”Thank God…” Tony muttered. Thor stood. 

”We must go to the Captain and―!”

”He’ll come to us. We have to wait for him to come to us,” Natasha said firmly. Clint looked at her like she was crazy. 

”What?! How can you be so calm?! He needs us! We can’t just sit around and wait! He’s been gone for hours! It’s nearly three in the God damn morning and―!”

”No, she’s right. He has to come to us on his own. Forcing him to won’t do any good,” Bruce said quietly. Tony sighed, relaxing back into the couch as Thor reluctantly did the same. 

”…He’d better hurry his ass up, then,” Clint sighed. The Avengers forced themselves to wait, anxious and hoping their Captain trusted them enough to seek out their help now instead of running again. 

*****

This was gonna suck…Steve paused. Knowing Jarvis had probably already alerted the others that he was back. But he could still leave. He could just turn around and walk out and…

…But his team…they were worried… Steve frowned as he stood just inside the tower, thinking back on Oliver’s words. Maybe his team really did care about him. In which case…he didn’t want to be the cause of any pain…so…

Steve listened as the beat of the song dropped, forcing the fog away from his mind a little bit. It was enough that he could think a little more clearly. Steve sighed. _Stop thinking so hard. Just go._

The blonde headed to the elevator and pressed the button for his floor. The others would be on the common floor. He wasn't ready for that just yet... Steve did his best to focus on the deep thud of bass in his ears as he waited in the elevator, focusing on keeping his breath steady. 

Maybe things would work out fine. Maybe. 

Hopefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how sex with a trans guy works. Not exactly. I'm a pre-T one myself, so...yeah. If I messed up somehow, apologies. There's not exactly a lot of trans-inclusive smut out there, unfortunately..but whatever! You get the idea!
> 
> Oliver is an OC, obviously. I generally don't like bringing OCs into fanfictions or seeing them in fics, so I'll try not to make Ollie too big a part of the story. If you would prefer I have him be more major, let me know. I'll take it into consideration.


	5. An Exposed Shield

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve realizes he can't keep his team at arm's length anymore, and for the first time, he puts all his trust in his team and opens up. It's not easy on any of them, but it's a start. 
> 
> They can work with a start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The reviews/comments are so very appreciated!! Thank you to all who commented! 
> 
> I'm having way too much fun writing this...I'm evil, aren't I? Whoops. 
> 
>  
> 
> **POSSIBLE TRIGGER WARNING: Panic attack in this chapter**

Steve was pissed.

 _Really_ pissed.

He’d gone for his razor when he got back up to his floor, needing just a bit of calming courage before going to talk to the others and apologize for running off. Plus the fog was back with a vengeance. He couldn’t feel anything _but_ the faint sense of panic at the idea of talking to his team.

But Steve had gone to his floor only to find his razors gone. All of them. Even the hidden ones. The backups. The backup backups. The lighters. Gone. Every knife in his kitchen was gone, too. Everything he could’ve used to hurt himself was gone. He even had a new, stupidly safe electric razor for shaving and an electric pencil sharpener he didn’t know how to get to the blade in. 

God. Fucking. Dammit. 

Steve sat, shaking slightly, on the floor in front of his bed for a few songs. He hadn’t taken the headphones off. It was the only thing keeping him from scratching desperately at his scabs or hyperventilating, at the moment. The lyrics helped his breathing even a little as he huffed out a tiny laugh at the irony of them. 

_~I remember_

_You would say_

_It's all okay_

_It'll be alright_

_Every night_

_I could hear it_

_I remember~_

*****

”Captain Rogers appears to be fighting down a panic attack. His vitals indicate he is close to one, however.”

Tony and Clint both cursed foully. Even Thor did, although the others were only fairly sure the Asgardian phrases the god uttered were curses. His tone certainly implied they were, though. 

”I’m going up there, fuck waiting―” Clint said, standing. Thor yanked him back down, earning a frustrated grunt. 

”No. The others were right. He knows we will wish to talk with him. We must let Steven come to us for aid, at some point. Otherwise he will never learn he can come to us at all.”

Clint wasn’t happy, but he stayed on the couch. He felt useless, sitting here…but looking around at the tense faces and worried eyes of his teammates, Clint knew they felt the same. But this was a two way street―Steve had to be willing to talk, not just have it forced out of him.

And so, the Avengers waited once more.

Thankfully, this time, they didn’t have to wait nearly as long.

*****

Finally, after almost twenty minutes, Steve stood, exhaling a steady breath. He had to go talk to his team. Oliver was right. But…God, his hands were trembling just _thinking_ about it…

But he had to. They deserved that much, right? Just like Buck had deserved some sort of explanation… 

So Steve sucked it up, turned the volume up on the iPod a couple clicks to drown out his increasingly frantic thoughts, and got back into the elevator. 

”Jarvis, take me to whatever floor the others are on.” 

*******

”Captain Rogers is on his way to this floor. He is noticeably calmer, as well.” 

Tony breathed a heavy sigh of relief. “Thank fuck.”

”Told you he’d come,” Bruce said happily. Thor nodded. 

”I am pleased he is finally willing to come to us…” 

”Clint, Tony, do _not_ yell at him when he gets here,” Natasha said sternly. The two nodded, for once understanding the need to not be rash with their words. 

The elevator dinged, and ten eyes flicked to the entryway as their Captain walked in, eyes downcast. 

Immediately they noticed the dark splotches on Steve’s neck. And the headphones. And the trembling. And the darting eyes. It was clear their Captain wasn’t…himself. 

Well, he couldn’t yell, but Tony wasn’t going to just stay quiet and do nothing. It just wasn’t in his nature. Still, he surprised everyone when he rushed to Steve and yanked the man into a tight hug. Steve blinked rapidly, but wrapped his arms around Tony, sighing softly through his nose. This was…odd. Unexpected. But nice. Even through the fog it was…comforting.

Tony wasn’t sure why he did it, himself. But it didn’t matter. Steve was safe and he was back and they could _fix_ this, they could!

”You stupid idiot…” Tony muttered. With his head so close to Steve’s, he could hear the faint music coming from the headphones and realized Steve probably couldn’t hear him. He pushed them around Steve’s neck, surprised when he heard what sounded like…dubstep? Wait, where had he even gotten those headphones? And why did he smell different? He didn’t have that usual heady, faintly musky scent…Tony was slightly surprised when his jaw clenched in rage. The hickeys. Bet whoever gave those to Steve smelled like the light, sweet scent stuck to the blonde…

…and just _why_ the hell was Tony so jealous of that?! Whatever…now was not the time to think about his stupid emotions!

Steve blinked, pulling away from Tony a little, putting some distance between them. His eyes flicked past Tony’s shoulders to the others, and his shoulders tensed. He…he couldn’t do this, he couldn’t…!!

”Steve…” Tony, seeing the panic start to make its way back into those blue eyes, pulled one unsteady hand from the leather jacket and gripped it lightly, gently guiding Steve to the free space on the couch. The blonde went, and Natasha frowned when she realized why Jarvis had said Steve looked calmer. That dull, distant look was back in his eyes. 

”Sorry for…running off. I didn’t mean to worry you,” Steve said softly. Speaking seemed like an effort, and speaking honestly was even harder.

”Oh, Jarvis, call the suits back…” Tony said. They didn’t need to search anymore. As Jarvis said “Yes sir,” Bruce muted the TV then turned his full attention to Steve. 

”First thing’s first,” Bruce said, “Did you hurt yourself again?”

Steve blinked, but shook his head. At the skeptical looks he received he sighed. This wasn’t going to be fun, but he was here now… might as well get it over with. The Captain pulled out the iPod and paused the music, then took off the headphones and leaned forward, setting them and the iPod on the coffee table. 

”I didn’t. Promise.”

”You’re going to be fully honest with us right now. Completely,” Clint said firmly, glaring at Steve. The blonde winced very slightly, but nodded. It was too late for anymore lies…and he was tired. So tired. He didn’t have the strength to lie anymore. 

”Okay, well, let’s start fairly small,” Tony said. “Where did you get those headphones and iPod― cause I know _I_ didn’t buy such outdated tech for you― and who the hell gave you those hickeys?? With your healing those should’ve been gone by now…”

Steve turned pink, looking away. He leaned back on the couch, bringing one knee to his chest and wrapping his hands around his ankle, lacing his fingers together. After a moment he said, “Oliver. His stuff, too. He was nice.” A small smile curved his lips. 

”…and is that his number?” Clint asked, motioning to Steve’s hand. Another nod. Bruce looked a little surprised. 

”Huh. Wouldn’t have pegged you for liking guys considering when you grew up…” 

Steve laughed a little. “Bruce, Brooklyn was one of the largest underground queer areas. It wasn’t uncommon to see around at night. I never much cared.”

”Hm. Not surprised,” Clint said. Tony looked to him, raising a brow. “What? Cap’s all equal rights and stuff, so…”

Quietly, Thor muttered, “Why do you Midgardians care about such trivial matters? Love is love. Pleasure is pleasure.” Clint agreed with Thor, but the two soon turned their attention back to Steve. 

”True…so, what, you’re gay? No, bi, right? Cause that Peggy woman…” Tony asked curiously. 

Steve frowned gently. “I―

Natasha interrupted: ”What I’m more concerned about is the fact you ran off while emotionally and mentally compromised, then proceeded to hook up with a random guy. While not in your right mind. Steve, he didn’t take advant―?” 

”Nat! Woah, I’m gonna stop you right there!” Steve interrupted, raising his hands in a dismissive gesture. “Oliver didn’t do anything I didn’t want. He…well, I mean, he didn’t…” Steve paused. How could he explain how Oliver had helped and how he’d told him who he was…? Oh man…

Bruce’s eyes narrowed. “Steve. Consent isn’t something to be debated over. Did h―?”

”No, that’s not what I meant! Ugh… I sort of… God, why am I even bothering…” the Captain muttered, shaking his head. Natasha’s eyes hardened. Fine: they’d do this the hard way. 

”Tell me what happened. Now. All of it. From once you lost us.” 

Steve blinked, and he fought hard not to let the pink stain his cheeks again. “I’m not about to―”

”Most of it, then. Skip the sex part, old man,” Tony teased.

Steve sighed heavily, and then forced himself to keep talking. “I got lost walking. Ended up in a…rave, Ollie called it.” Several eyes widened at that, but Steve continued anyways. “It was fun, honestly. Weird though. And Ollie came up to me, etcetera. Whatever. He was nice. Really nice. I kind of…told him who I am…and he helped convince me to come back, so. Yeah. I dunno.” He hummed, looking away thoughtfully. “Also, why did no one tell me about trans folk being accepted now?? Told me about the gays and such, but not the trans folk?? I was surprised to hear how good stuff is for them now!” 

A pregnant pause filled the room for a moment.

Tony leaned back, rubbing a hand down his face as he tried to take all that in. “So…Captain America went to a rave, enjoyed it, hooked up with a trans guy casually despite being from a time when sex before marriage was nearly worse than being queer in the first place, told said casual hookup he’s Captain America, and….wow. Wow, Steve.” 

The Captain ran a hand through his hair, a little embarrassed. “Well…um…yeah.”

”…what the hell, dude,” Clint said, laughing. “Alright, so, you…wow. Pan, then?” 

Steve frowned. “Pan?” 

”Pansexual. Pretty much means you’re gender and sex blind when it comes to being attracted to people,” Tony explained. 

”Ohhh…” Steve said softly. “Um. Sure? It doesn’t really matter. I don’t…” his voice falls to a mutter again, “…really even _like_ sex, unless it’s with the right person. S’ just sex… I dunno.” 

Natasha was sitting right next to Steve, so she heard every word. ”So you’re saying he _did_ rape you and didn’t make sure yo―” 

”No!” Steve startled, brows drawing. “Oliver wouldn’t ha―”

”Steve, you were almost certainly not thinking straight,” Tony said. He’d heard Steve as well. “It’s okay to admit if you didn’t give full consent and actually want―” 

”Stop,” Steve said sternly. Thor pressed on, though.

”It is not uncommon for victims of this to want to deny or defend―” 

_”Stop.”_ This time it was a near growl. Steve glared at the skeptical looks. “I know what consent is and how it works, for God’s sake.” The irritation made him more willing to explain this, whereas usually he’d be more reserved about something like this. “That’s not what I meant. I didn’t mean I didn’t like or want it, I just meant sex doesn’t mean anything to me or even… feel that…good?…when I don’t… _know_ the person?” As he tried to explain his feelings Steve started to frown at himself. That didn’t make any sense, though… 

”Oh, you’re demisexual,” Bruce said like it was the easiest thing in the world. Steve looked up and looked even more confused than he had when Clint said “pan”. 

”Like me. You don’t feel sexual attraction unless you care for the person or are close to them, right? Like, it’s not…the same. Not anything, really, without a bond,” Bruce explained. Steve nodded slowly. 

”That’s…basically it…I think…?” 

”Still, I’m surprised you did the whole casual scene thing,” Tony said idly. Steve raised a brow. 

”Why wouldn’t I?”

Tony fixed the blonde with a level stare. “…you admitted to being sold and raped repeatedly as a kid, Steve. Something like that generally makes people a little more reserved about one-night-stands with strangers.” 

Steve scoffed lightly. “The two couldn’t be farther apart in my mind.” At the questioning looks the blonde clarified. “Rape and sex. Not at all the same thing. Both can involve strangers or people you’re close to, but…not the sa―” Steve cut himself off with a yawn “―same.” He finished. 

”Sorry, no sleeping until we hash this out,” Clint said. Steve merely hummed in acknowledgement.

”Tis true, and good you realize this,” Thor said, pleased. The others were internally relieved. Steve at least seemed to have handled his childhood trauma fairly well… then again, they still didn’t know many details. So they weren’t fully sure of that just yet. 

“Mmmm,” Tony hummed in agreement, “alright, well, how about that rave? You actually liked the music and such? I wouldn’t have expected that.”

Steve forced the memories of encounters that he knew most certainly had _not_ involved consent out of his mind. Now wasn’t the time to think of such things… “Oh. Yeah. I mean, it was different, for sure. But…dubstep, isn’t it called?” Clint and Bruce’s nod confirmed that. “Right. Dubstep is weird, but I do like it.” 

_This isn’t so bad so far… I can handle this._

Of course, Thor had to bring the conversation back to exactly what Steve never wanted to talk about. “Steven… you said you were fourteen the first time you harmed yourself.” Already Steve was turning into a statue again. “Has this been…a regular occurrence?”

Clint elaborated: “And like…how often? We need to know how bad it is.” 

_In…out…don’t freak, calm…breathe…in…out…_ Steve took a moment to collect himself. He knew he had to answer. The questions were only going to get worse from here… 

But…it wasn’t fair to shut his team out, was it? Just like it wouldn’t have been fair to shut Bucky out after he saved Steve from bleeding out on his floor. 

”I… don’t think I can answer that.” Steve didn’t say that to avoid the question; he really wasn’t sure. Time blurred. Everything blurred, through the fog. He just wasn’t certain. 

”Steve…” Bruce started. Clint beat him to it though. 

”You’re going to anyways. You need to talk about it. Plus, we need to know.” 

Steve shook his head. “No, I mean I literally can’t give you an accurate answer. I don’t…remember.” 

Natasha frowned deeply. “Explain.” 

The Captain worried his lips between his teeth. “I…it’s…blurry. I don’t know.” 

Tony could see the anxiety seeping into their Captain again. Instead of rubbing his back or laying a carefully comforting hand on his shoulder, Tony followed his instinct and wrapped his arm around Steve’s shoulder. As the blonde gave a tiny surprised and confused sound, Tony gently tugged the man so Steve was leaning on his shoulder. He rubbed up and down Steve’s arm, hoping to provide some measure of comfort. Eyes a little wide, Steve soon relaxed against the billionaire. He let himself talk, trying to focus on the warm stability he was leaning on rather than the fact he was letting go of something he’d planned to take to his grave. 

”Everything’s blurry. Distant. I think I do it often? Probably…” his baby blues were fixed on the edge of the couch. He couldn’t look at them. He couldn’t. 

”Take a guess, then. On average, how many times a week?” Bruce asked. A crease was between his brows as he tried to understand what Steve was saying. 

Tony rubbed more firmly when he felt the blonde against him start to tremble and fidget a little. He felt his chest ache at the strained, quiet voice that answered, sounding so different from their usual Captain. 

”Um…maybe… six? Five? Depends.” Oh God he shouldn’t have said “depends" now they were going to ask and he wasn’t ready to tell them about the fog he couldn’t it they’d think he was craz― 

”Steve, Steve, breathe,” Tony said, trying to mask the worry in his voice. He leaned to the side, deciding comforting Steve was worth the slight awkwardness, and let Steve’s head rest on his collar. The blonde was laying half on top of him, with Tony’s arm around his waist now. Steve was tense in his arms, breaths unsteady and too shallow. Across the room Bruce and Clint could see the dazed, panicked look in Steve’s eyes as he stared at the same spot, and then blinked rapidly when he realized he was laying on his teammate. 

The Captain looked up at Tony, frowning. Tony smiled a little. “You need the comfort, so shut up.” Steve’s lips twitched at that, but the hint of a smile faded when Thor gently pressed for an explanation. 

”Depends on what, good Captain?”

Steve froze up all over again. He didn’t respond, and Natasha laid a hand on his leg, which was now next to her on the couch. Clint spoke for the Widow before she could.

“Steve, you can tell us. We’re not going to judge you or think you’re batshit.”

Steve looked to Clint with hopeful eyes at the words. The archer had touched on his real concern without knowing it. Bruce agreed softly, and the blonde took a chance. He trusted these people with his life in the field, and they…they were his _team_. Maybe it was time to _really_ trust them…

Steve tried to speak, and at first it was easy, but soon panic made him choke up. “Sometimes there’s this… thing. And it makes it…hard to…sometimes it gets…i-it gets...there’s...but I-I can’t…” he wondered why he couldn’t get enough air and realized the stuttered gasps he was hearing were his own. Tony cursed above him and tugged Steve up so they were chest-to-back. 

”Follow my breathing, come on,” Tony said quietly, laying a hand over Steve’s heaving chest. The others looked to be in agony, watching their normally incredibly strong Captain fall apart before them. They’d met their Captain, but Steve Rogers had been hiding from them all this time. Now that they saw the man under the cowl…they wanted nothing more than to shield him from the world and whatever was hurting him so. And feed him sweets until he was satisfied and smiling once more. 

Idly, Bruce muttered,” Well, Nat, you were right about the panic attacks…” 

As Steve tried to take deeper breaths, he managed to stutter, ”H-haze. S’ a haze.” Only Tony could hear the gasped words, and he frowned. 

”Haze? What do you mean?? Wait, no, breathe first, answer later,” Tony said. He ignored the equally impatient frowns of his teammates and focused on breathing long and steady for Steve to follow. 

Once the word was out Steve relaxed marginally. The worst was out of the way…maybe…maybe he could do this. Maybe they wouldn’t berate him and yell when he wasn’t strong enough like his father had and―

_No. Calm. Breathe. Follow Tony._

Steve focused on Tony’s breaths as they moved him gently up and down. He shoved his worry away, or tried to, and forced himself to concentrate on the warm hand on his arm, the steady, comforting body beneath him, and the soft words and gentle encouragement. 

There was no cruelty here. He was safe.

Tony breathed a sigh of relief when Steve no longer seemed like he was about to hyperventilate. He noticed the previously white knuckled fists loosen, and counted that a small victory. 

Steve closed his eyes and turned his head half into the cushion and half into Tony. His voice was dull as he spoke. “The haze. It makes everything numb. Sometimes it’s gray, and I can still function, but sometimes it’s black and I can’t feel… _anything_ …and everything gets blurry and disconnected. The pain helps. Makes it gray again, for a little.” 

The Avengers took that in carefully. Steve had just started to tense up again, beginning to worry they _had_ thought him loony, when Bruce spoke softly. 

”Depression.”

Steve turned to look at Bruce, face impassive. “What?”

”It sounds like you have depression. I’m no doctor though.”

Tony nodded, biting the inside of his cheek hard. “The therapists Pepper made me go see thought I had it. After Afghanistan…” 

...Steve didn’t deserve that half-truth… 

Tony sighed heavily. “Actually, I was diagnosed with it.. And PTSD. So I can gather that…yeah, Steve, that sounds like depression.” 

The blonde went rigid, then sat up so fast he gave himself a head rush. He turned around to look at Tony frantically. Clint and Natasha jumped, ready to stop him if he tired anything drastic… 

But Steve was focused solely on Tony now. The billionaire stayed lying back on the pillows even as Steve demanded: “You…?! You have…the fog, you have it too?!” 

Steve’s face fell. “But you…you don’t deserve that, no…” 

Tony raised a brow. Steve was really upset by the thought Tony experienced what he did...it was sort of endearing. “Well, sort of, yeah. But copious amounts of therapy, alcohol, and my awesome ex-girlfriend Pepper helped me work through it. It still comes back sometimes, but not nearly as bad. And now I know how to deal with it. You, however, need a therapist as well so that you can learn healthier coping methods.” 

”Wow, Tony, who knew you could say something smart and not sarcastic?” Clint jibed. Tony flipped him off, while Steve looked down, contemplating what he’d heard. 

”This is my friend’s life and happiness we’re talking about. Of course I’m being serious for this.” 

”Steven, are you alright?” Thor’s question had all eyes on the Captain again, who nodded automatically. Natasha glared. 

”You’re not getting away with answers like that anymore,” the Widow said. Steve was clearly lost in his head and overwhelmed. The nod was an obvious defense. 

Steve didn’t know what to say to that, though. He didn’t know what to think. Depression? Demisexual? Tony had the black noose around his neck too?? Why did that hurt almost more than anything else?! Pansexual? Therapist? _Not_ turning to the blade that had helped him for so many years?! There was no way… this was so messed up, everything was fucked up… he couldn’t…he shouldn’t…

Steve realized there were soft words being spoken and gentle hand wiping under his eyes. Steve blinked, noticing Thor had come over and was brushing the mute tears off Steve’s cheeks. The blonde didn’t react past letting the comforting touches continue. 

_None of you should have to deal with this... I shouldn’t have survived the first damn time._

It took Steve a second to realize the people around him had frozen because he’d said that aloud, barely audible but heard by all due to the silence they were giving him to collect himself. 

Well shit.

Clint was shaking with rage as the others tried to wrap their heads around just how little Steve thought of himself. “Steve, if you think that for one _second,_ you’re a complete fool.”

”Clint, don’t―”

 _”No,_ Nat, I’m not going to let him think like that!” Clint hissed. He stood and paced agitatedly, ranting as he went. 

”I mean, you act like we don’t care about you! Of course we care! Steve, you’re not just our Captain, you’re our friend!” Steve inhaled sharply, looking up at Clint and watching him pace. 

”I-I don’t…I’m not…”

”Not what? Not good enough? Not worth it?” Steve stared wide-eyed. That was too accurate, why did Clint…?? 

But the archer wasn’t near done yet, even as Bruce tried to get him to tone it down a notch.

"Well news for you then, Cap, cause you’re worth it. Depression isn’t something to be ashamed of. Mental illness isn’t something we respond to with shock therapy and strait jackets anymore! If you think we’d be so cruel as to not take this seriously or care that you’re hurting, then you’re just plain ol’ stupid. Know how I know? Cause after Loki’s whole mind control thing, I had those same thoughts. And I realized how stupid it was to think so little of this team.” 

The Avengers were listening attentively, nodding occasionally. Steve idly realized Thor had stopped brushing his cheeks, and then noticed it was because he’d stopped crying. The Captain unconsciously rubbed over his scabbed arm, the sting providing a tiny it of grounding. 

”…m’ sorry,” Steve apologized, looking down. Natasha yanked his hand away from his arm, and Steve was immediately reminded of Oliver’s identical movement. “I don’t think you would…I just don’t see why….for me. Why you would do that for me.”

Steve blinked, and before anyone could respond to that he spoke again. “Oh. But my job is to be Captain America. Right… the serum made it so I could do my job right. Mostly. So okay, yeah. I’ll get better so I can be a better shield and―” 

Bruce cut the painfully monotone words off. “Steve, you’re not a shield. You’re a man. It’s not an obligation to….besides, you’re grounded until we know you won’t try to commit passive suicide via doombot.” 

Tony laid a hand on Steve’s back as the Captain went rigid again. “Steve, are you―?”

”You can’t ground me,” Steve said weakly. “I need to be in the field… I can’t just… sit around or…!”

”Incorrect. You’re going to sit around and get better. You don’t need to be in the field. We can’t take the chance you’ll end up hurting yourself,” Natasha said. Steve’s hands shook lightly as he felt the fog curl around his throat once more. 

”I-I can’t! I can’t just be so useless as to―!”

”Whoever said you were useless?!” Thor demanded. Steve stood, fists clenched in frustration. 

”No one had to tell me, I already knew! And if I can’t even protect anyone, what the hell am I good for?!” His voice cracked on the last word, and Steve cursed himself silently. He was so weak, he couldn’t even handle doing what he was mean to: be a shield. 

Tony stood as well. “God, are you blind?! It’s not hard! No missions until you’re mentally stable! And you aren’t useless! You’ve got the biggest damn heart I’ve ever seen and it’s frankly nauseating sometimes. Ugh, I suck at words, but you get the idea…Steve?” 

The Captain was shaking, now rubbing hard at his scabs. Thor tried to pull his hand away but the super solider wasn’t having it. He backed away, shaking his head. He couldn’t handle being useless again. He couldn’t. It was the only reason he wasn’t actively trying to end his life― because he could be of use as an Avenger. And if he couldn’t even do that…and couldn’t even harm himself to keep the haze at bay… he’d suffocate. He’d drown all over again, just without all the ice involved, this time. The fog was only making these thoughts worse, and Steve had never felt it wind so tightly around him. 

”Steve, Steve, breathe, man, it’s okay―”

”Stop, you’ll re-open the cuts, Cap―”

”Thor, grab him so he doesn’t run, try to calm him―”

Steve felt large, warm arms wrap around him and tried to pull away, using his enhanced strength to push. But Thor held fast. He soon gave up, gasping as the knot in his chest and throat only grew tighter still and oh God he couldn’t…!

”I can’t I can’t I need―l-let me go I need― need a blade give them back let me _go_ I can’t―” a gasp “―breathe please I need― make it _stop…!”_

Thor held tightly even as Steve sank to the ground, hardly even noticing his mouth was running. He went right with the other blonde, holding him tight even as Steve tried to curl into himself. The god held Steve’s hands firmly, not letting them stray to his scabs to scratch any more. The others crowded around, unable to keep themselves away. Their Captain needed them. More importantly, actually, _Steve_ needed them. 

Natasha ran a gentle hand through Steve’s hair, murmuring soothing Russian words and ignoring how much the rambled, desperate words hurt to hear. Tony looked like he wanted to swim in a scotch bottle at the moment, and Bruce laid a hand on the billionaire’s shoulder. This had to be hard for Tony to watch…Bruce knew Tony had suffered panic attacks and watching one had to hit a nerve. Even Clint, whose control over his emotions and responses rivaled even Nat’s, winced when the first sob tore out of Steve’s chest. The super soldier’s words grew more frantic as he felt the fog tearing at his chest, blacker than black and ruthless and he _couldn’t do this._

” I can’t be grounded then I’ll be even more useless and he’ll have been right I can’t just stay out of the field _please_ let me have my blades back I can’t breathe through this it’s too much it’s too much the haze’s too tight too dark make it stop please _please…!”_

Thor shushed Steve softly as the man choked on his sobs and pleas, his words becoming unintelligible. Thor, rocking him a little, willed Steve to feel some measure of the comfort from his loving team. None of the Avengers were sure how long that went on for, Steve trying to get his breathing and shaking and panic under control and Thor holding him so he wouldn’t harm himself or shake out of his skin. Eventually, Steve’s death grip on Thor’s shirt slackened as the blonde stopped hyperventilating and sagged, exhausted by his attack. 

Thor, not caring whether or not the conversation was really over, picked Steve up, ignoring the protesting noises from the Captain, and started to leave the common room.

Tony started, realizing they still didn’t have all the information they needed to help understand Steve’s struggle and help him. ”Thor, wait, we need to know what his father did and about the attempts becau―”

”It can wait,” Thor said resolutely. “The good Captain is exhausted. He needs rest, and the comforts of a brother.” Tony deflated, backing down. Thor was right, that had been selfish of him…

”At least take him to his own room, maybe?” Natasha said, following as the god left and headed down the hall, passing Steve’s room and heading towards his own.

”I believe the last thing Steven needs is to be in the room where he’s been alone every other time he needed aid.” Thor said as he nudged the door open with his hip. “I anticipate and hope being surrounded by a part of his team will provide some ease to him.”

Steve’s eyes were unfocused as he was set under the blankets, and, hardly knowing what he was doing, he held tight to Thor’s clothes. It smelled like static and exotic spice and _team_ and _home_ here, but Steve didn’t want the source of strength and solidity and warmth to leave. He didn’t want to be left alone again to suffocate until someone came at the last second before he lost consciousness from blood loss or until the noose snapped or― 

”I’m staying with him tonight. Breathe easy, Steven, it’s alright, you’re fine,” Thor said, voice deep as he shuffled into the bed next to Steve. Although his breathing was thankfully only uneven and no longer gasping, at first Steve’s shaking didn’t falter and he looked like he was going to shake to pieces at the slightest touch. As Nat followed them into the room, she could see Steve was still tangled in that black, chaotic, distressing place in his head. 

Before she could do anything about it, Thor handled it. He wrapped his arms around Steve and rubbed his back, whispering reassurances and random comforts until Steve began to relax bit by bit. 

”It’s alright, the demon is only in your mind. Tis not real…” Thor yawned, and before long, Steve echoed the action. “You need not quake so, Steven, I’m right here….it’s alright. You are worth so much more than what you think… You father was wrong. I guarantee he was…... Do not fret, your shield brothers and sister will not let this hurt you any longer.”

”………. We are here for you.”

After that, it didn’t take long for the two emotionally and mentally exhausted blondes to fall asleep, taking comfort in the closeness of a brother. Beside the bed, Natasha smiled. Thor was a good friend, and even if she wanted to, Nat knew she wouldn’t be able to get the god to leave Steve right now.

Thor also seemed to know what to do to handle a panic attack… well, even if he’d passed out as well. But he deserved the rest…Maybe Asgardians had panics attacks too, and Thor had dealt with them before…she quietly left the room, leaving the door opened. She got back to the others and found Bruce, Clint, and Tony standing around the common room, looking lost and… _lost._

The three looked up at her once she entered, and Natasha reassured them, “Thor’s asleep with him. They’re okay. Thor will be there if Steve needs anything…”

Clint smiled softly and tiredly. “The guy’s a giant teddy bear. I love it.” 

Bruce’s own smile was wider. “He cares deeply for his friends. I’m honored to be one of them…Steve’s safe with him. We can go get some rest. Talk more tomorrow, maybe.” 

Tony was staring out the window, much the same that Steve had been weeks ago. The distant look in his eyes reminded the others of that first hint that something was wrong with their Captain. 

Bruce went to Tony and laid a gentle hand on his arm. “Tony, are you alright? That can’t have been easy to see for any of us, but especially that panic attack, for you…”

Tony sighed softly through his nose, looking down and shutting his eyes. He collected himself for a moment like that before turning to Bruce. “…I…I’m worried.” Tony recalled the rambled, petrified: _”He’ll have been right”_.

“He…his father apparently is to blame for that mindset of his…but it started so young…I mean, it took me so long to think differently from the way the abuse made me believe I was worthless…and Steve…what he went through…well, we still don’t know any details, though…and he was so _panicked,_ without his blades, and without being able to go in the field…” Tony swallowed hard. “Bruce, I’m worried…I’m scared for him.” 

They knew it was bad if Tony was scared enough to admit all that. 

”Thor’s with him now. He’s getting some rest. Tomorrow we’ll start to fix this. We know what’s wrong now. Well, what’s probably wrong. It’s fixable, Tony, he’ll be fine,” Clint said, rubbing his eyes. It had been a helluva day, and a long one to boot. 

”It won’t be easy to get any information, even vague bits, about the abuse out of him, I don’t think. And yeah, we all want to know, but I don’t want to send him into another attack tomorrow… maybe that should wait until the therapist?” Bruce mused aloud. 

”Hmm… we’ll ask if he’d be more comfortable telling us or talking to a therapist. I know he wants to do neither, so we should make him pick. Win-win, that way. Well, for us. But that’s for the best, for Steve…” Tony said. Clint and Bruce hummed their agreement at that idea. Natasha sighed, but nodded. She didn’t like doing that to Steve…but it was necessary. He had to start opening up like he had today, for his own sake. 

”We’ll be fine, Tony. For now, we _all_ need to get some rest, okay?” Natasha said, running her fingers through her hair. Even she was tired, she had to admit. 

Slowly and reluctantly, the rest of the team made their way back to their own rooms. All of them stayed on the common floor though, not wanting to stray far from Steve. Despite their racing, concerned thoughts, they fell asleep quickly due to the exhaustion. 

Steve and Thor were out for the count. Steve was far away from any ice or cruel hands, and felt…protected, despite usually being the protector. And even with the god’s deep, rumbling sores, Steve slept more soundly than he had in years, safe and warm in his brother’s arms. 

Bucky had snored too, after all. So it was fine. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a sucker for Thor h/c. The next chapter is going to be full of h/c, as well, so prepare your hearts for mush and feels x3
> 
> The song lyrics are from the song "I Remember" by Tristam. All credit goes to the artist, none to me! (PS: if you like dubstep, check Tristam out!! They're one of my favorite artists!!)


	6. The Drop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I don't have much excuse for the delay in this chapter other than I get busy and stressed and life exploded. Like three times xD 
> 
> Thank you for the reviews!! They're very helpful and make my day! I think Ollie will be a more major addition, but not a huge one. I might even have something happen to him...hmm...so many evil ideas! 
> 
> ~J

Steve woke slowly, feeling like he’d slept a mere six minutes instead of the six hours he actually had. His first impression other than the tiredness was that he was _really_ warm. It was nice. His second impression was that Bucky must’ve gotten the heat turned back on from the extra hours he’d worked this week. Then Steve realized Bucky was most certainly _not_ the long haired blonde with one large arm wrapped loosely around him. Despite the revelation that this was _Thor_ and _2012, not 1937_ , Steve barely felt any sense of loss. He didn’t pause to wonder why, though.

The super solider blinked slowly, and sat up, careful to move gingerly so he didn’t wake Thor. He yawned widely, rubbing his eyes. They felt swollen and sore from crying. Dammit…Steve hated to cry. It sucked. 

Steve glanced around, taking in the nice, simply decorated room around him. There were a few Asgardian decorations on the walls, the rug was definitely not from Earth, and the incense in the room smelled… strange. Heady, heavy. But comforting. The faint sound of tired voices made their way to Steve from the kitchen, and the blonde felt his chest ache sharply at the memories. 

He’d told them. About the fog, and…yet, they hadn’t been disgusted by his description. They hadn’t thrown him in a white room, or brushed it off. They’d offered for a doctor to help him, held him through one of those damn attacks, and shown him nothing but compassion. 

His team hadn’t let him down. Not at all. 

He _had_ been foolish to think they might. Clint was right.

Steve rolled out of bed and wobbled slightly once he stood. Woah…that was weird. He hadn’t felt anything but steady since the serum unless he was shot or something… but right then, Steve’s limbs might have well been made of lead. He had the vague sense he should be concerned, for something was off, something was wrong…but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

 _Should shower. Should shave….but who cares…?_ Even those simple actions seemed daunting and pointless. Why had he even bothered getting out of bed, come to think of it…? 

But showering meant not facing the concerned eyes of his team just yet. And Steve didn’t want to face all that right then. So shower it was. 

The blonde quietly made his way back to his own room, shutting the door behind him. He stripped out of his clothes, grabbing a fresh T-shirt and jeans before heading into the bathroom. He pursed his lips when he saw the electric razor sitting unassumingly on his counter once more, remembering any blade he had was gone. 

Steve wondered why he needed the blade anyways. He felt fine. 

…Oh.

He realized suddenly exactly why he _did_ need the blade, or at least a lighter. He couldn’t feel anything. _Nothing_. Usually there was…there was something. _Some_ faint feeling of…responsibility, or even worry. _Something._

But now, Steve realized, the haze wasn’t just black, it was concrete.

Usually it flowed and moved like a cloud of smoke, twisting and molding around him as he went throughout his day. Sometimes it blocked his vision, other times it was merely around his throat and he could see fine. But now, the fog was stagnant. It was pure black, and it was still holding tight around his throat, and its talons were still buried in his chest, the wounds still bleeding, and it was. Not. _Moving._

Steve should have panicked at the realization. He should’ve felt…the need for the blade, for the pain to shove the fog away, the need for something to _stop_ this. But he didn’t care. It didn’t matter. 

Nothing really did. 

Sighing softly, Steve nodded his head, figuring _okay. I have to deal with this now. It’s just a different kind of fog, is all._ So, assuming it would pass and soon the haze would move and give him a little room to breathe, Steve stepped into the shower and washed off. His mind was pleasantly blank as he did, simply letting himself feel the hot water sliding over him. Once out, the blonde fumbled until he figured out how to use the electric shaver he now had. After a few very patchy attempts, his stubble was gone and his face smooth again. 

He got dressed, and for a moment, looked down at the scars lining his arm. The injuries from the building were faint by now, but his left arm still bore noticeable scars. They’d be gone by tomorrow, but for today, they’d be a reminder. Steve figured he should cover them with a hoodie, perhaps. His team may know, but did they really need to see the reminder?

…Minutes later, working up the energy to get up and go to his closet, Steve changed into a forest green long sleeved shirt with the hulk’s fist on the front. 

Steve got lost in his head again, standing by his bed and staring out the window to the city below. He thought of his team’s reactions yesterday, and…couldn’t judge how he felt about them. He felt…not even numb, anymore. Just… nothing. Impenetrable. His immediate reactions to some thoughts seemed to be on mere autopilot, with no real feeling behind them. He knew what he _should_ feel, in response to his team’s care, and thus thought he felt gratitude and relief. But in reality, he didn’t know if he felt anything at all. 

It was unnerving. He’d never been quite this far down. The haze had never been _this_ dark and impermeable. He wasn’t sure what to make of it. But since he couldn’t really feel anything, he didn’t care about that either. 

Steve realized he didn’t know how long he’d been standing there, and shook himself gently. He had to go out sometime. It might as well be now.

He made his way to the kitchen, managing a tiny curve of his lips in greeting to Tony, Natasha, and Bruce. Natasha was next to Tony at the bar between the kitchen and living room, both on their StarkPads. They looked up and said their good mornings before going back to discussing the news about some recent election or something. Steve didn’t pay it much attention. Bruce was attempting to cook omelets, and was currently trying to not let any of the four pans he had cooking burn. He spared a quick wave to Steve before cursing softly, trying to get all the ingredients ready in time. 

Steve grabbed a single-serve bottle of orange juice from the fridge as Clint walked in, sitting at the table and watching Bruce amusedly. “Can’t time getting all that done at once, can you, Bruce?”

”Never,” Bruce admitted with a laugh. Steve took note of the green peppers and ham that still needed to be cut lying on the cutting board. Without thinking he stepped around the rushed scientist and grabbed the knife lying next to the board, flipping it in his hand and starting to cut the peppers to help Bruce a little. 

He blinked at the instant tension in the room, looking up briefly to see the other’s eyes on him, watching carefully. The haze made its first movement at that, albeit a tiny one. The serrated claws still stuck deep in his chest twisted and clenched down a little harder, making Steve tense a little. Soon the haze stopped, stilling once more in it’s now deeper position, and Steve could breathe again, even though it was now even more strained. At the attentive stares from his friends, Steve rolled his eyes, going back to slicing the peppers into tiny pieces.

”I _can_ actually use knives without causin’ myself injury, you know,” the Captain said, voice quieter than any of them were used to. “They _do_ have other uses, surprise surprise.” 

Tony frowned as Bruce snapped out of his watchful stare, flipping the bacon before it burned then setting it on a separate plate. Steve wasn’t usually quite that biting with his sarcasm…

”And we’re only making sure you aren’t going to use it on yourself, considering just yesterday you had a nasty panic attack and were begging for your blades back,” Tony said bluntly. Steve simply shrugged. Natasha punched Tony’s arm none-too-gently. 

”Could you be more insensitive!?”

Tony looked only slightly apologetic. “I don’t have the time to be all delicate, sorry. Bluntness is easier.” 

Clint chuckled, “I have to agree there.” 

The four Avengers looked back to Steve, who had gone back to slicing, quickly finishing and swiping the minced peppers onto the plate next to the bacon. He hadn’t really even reacted to Tony’s words, whereas yesterday he’d been freezing up at anything to do with his self-harm. 

That…probably wasn’t a good sign. 

”You okay there, Steve?” Clint asked, also bluntly. “Also, where did you learn to mince like that??” 

The blonde paused to drink his orange juice, then grabbed the ham, flipping the board over so he didn’t make the ham taste like peppers. “M’ fine. ‘nd Ma taught me a lot about cookin’. Put myself in the hospital once, tryin’ t’ mince like her. Nearly lost a finger. But I got it after that,” he said, dragging the knife through the meat and making nice little chunks. 

”Huh. Fancy that. Cook for us, sometime?” Tony asked, to which Steve nodded. The four noticed Steve’s accent was slipping more than usual. They didn’t know what to make of that. Steve’s Brooklyn accent was usually faint... 

”You all like mac and cheese n’ veggies n’ chicken? Ma n’ Buck always used to say that was the best thing I made.” The words came easily. He didn’t have to stop to think about what he shared, for once. He idly noticed he wasn’t bothering to make his accent any lighter, and didn’t care. Being this distant was weird, but…it was almost easier to get stuff done, like this. 

”Sounds good, sure,” Bruce said kindly. He took the board of ham from Steve with a thanks, putting that next to the other ingredients. The blonde realized he was still holding the knife, glanced at it, and frowned. He flipped it in his hand again, watching the silver gleam catch the light. He didn’t…actually feel the temptation. But maybe it would make the fog loosen up again. It should, anyways, so it was worth a tr―

”Steve.”

He blinked, looking to Natasha, who was glaring lightly at him along with the others. Damn. He’d forgotten they were there and watching so carefully. Hmph…what would they have done if he’d just ran again, and took the knife with him? Curious thought… or if he just did the job already, and sliced just deep enough into his pulse point…? Would they be able to save him, Steve wondered? Curious. Very curious. 

Knowing they were about to get mad at him, the blonde flipped the knife in his hand again, feeling the comforting weight of it in his hand. Then he set the knife in the sink, sighing a little and grabbing his drink before heading to leave. He didn’t really feel like being around anyone at the moment. Clint’s hand on his arm stopped him. Steve flinched despite himself, and he drew back, cursing mentally for showing that weakness. But Clint had grabbed his shredded arm…he looked down at the archer sitting backwards in his chair, raising a brow. 

”Sorry! Didn’t mean to hurt yo―”

”What do you want?” He’d put the blade down, what more did they want? He felt a wisp of irritation, but it was soon smothered by the haze. 

…Steve wasn’t himself. That much was clear. His impeccable manners and bright, kind eyes were absent. The team felt their hearts ache for their Captain back. Tony was trying to hide the pain on his face and doing a good job of it, as was Natasha. They’d both had plenty of practice with it. Bruce was still cooking furiously, but was still paying attention.

”…Are you sure you’re alright? Do you need anything?” Clint asked. Steve shook his head, hand rubbing at the rough scabs lining his arm and wishing the cuts were open again so rubbing them would sting. The sting worked just enough to keep him steady during a conversation, usually…. 

Tony saw the nervous movement, a sure tell Steve was anxious. “Cap… d―”

”M‘kay. Thanks.” What could they possibly do, after all?

The others could see the disassociation back in their Captain. They could see it seeping into his resultantly monotone, lazy words and far away expression. They thought it might be worse than usual, but they had no idea how bad it actually was. All they knew was that it being back after such a harsh breakdown probably wasn’t a good sign either.

But they didn’t want to push, so Bruce casually offered, “Well, don’t leave your omelet, at least. You can put whatever you want on it.” 

Steve tried to give Bruce a smile, but it wouldn’t come. It was odd. It felt like his cheeks simply wouldn’t respond… “No thanks, m’ not really hungry.” With his metabolism, he was _always_ hungry. So Bruce wasn’t too happy about that news.... But before he could say anything more Thor rushed into the kitchen, a little frantic. 

”Comrades! Steven is nowhere to be see― oh, there you are!” The god was visibly relieved when he saw Steve standing in the kitchen, unharmed. “I’d feared you’d left once more!” 

Steve did manage a small smile for Thor. “Mornin’. No, still here. Thanks, by the way.” He knew Thor would know what he was talking about. 

Steve gave an “uuhf!” when he was pulled into a tight hug. “Of course!” Thor exclaimed. “Anytime you need a companion, Steven, anytime!” 

The super soldier nodded once he was released, looking away shyly. “Thanks.” He then slipped out of the kitchen, waving a farewell, before heading to the elevator. Halfway there he paused, turned around, and went to the living room. Steve grabbed the headphones and iPod off the coffee table that he’d left there last night, then went back to the elevator. The others looked pensive and a little torn as he left, not wanting him to leave but also not wanting to be clingy or pushy. Best to give him some space for now, they decided. Steve had an emotional rollercoaster of a day, yesterday, and he’d opened up for the first time as well. Which had resulted in getting told he couldn’t do his job due to his mental state.

…Yeah. The guy had earned a bit of a break. 

Steve relaxed marginally once the doors were closed and he was on his way up to his floor, away from kind but questioning eyes. He could go down to the gym, but…he didn’t feel like working out, at the moment. Even doing something as simple as going out and talking to the team felt like it’d drained him, for some reason. His mind wandered to what would have happened if the team hadn’t found his cuts. Probably nothing. Maybe they’d have figured it out after he didn’t bother dodging a bullet or took one too many stupid risks on a mission… hm. Oh well, it didn’t matter now.

As he stepped off the elevator, Steve grabbed his phone off the kitchen counter and managed to find the “contacts” icon. He looked at the back of his hand, squinting to make out the now faded numbers on his skin. He shouldn’t have taken a shower before trying to put Ollie’s number in his phone… 

The numbers were still legible, though, and soon Steve was idly sitting on top of his counter, sending Oliver a quick text. 

**HiOllie. It’s Steve :)**

Steve put Oliver’s headphones back on and hit play, the music immediately helped him ignore the talons in his chest, and he breathed a little easier. He had only a few minutes to get lost in his unusually calm head before his phone buzzed in his hand. 

**Ollie: Hey!! How are you?? Howd the team take everything??**

Steve smiled faintly. **I’m alright I guess. They were pretty calm about it. And helpful I guess. They want me to pick a therapist or something. And they took all my blades and stuff.** It was still so easy to talk to Oliver. Even more so, now that he didn’t have to stutter over his words in person. It was easier to just space out and focus on the text conversation rather than face the world around him, for a time…

**Ollie: You guess??? Thats good tho! I mean, it may seem sucky to u, but thats gonna be a big step forward, Steve!**

Before Steve could type out a reply Oliver sent another text: **Ollie: Btw, can you talk on the phone rn?? Thisd be easier that way but if ur busy or something…**

He’d spoken too soon, apparently. Steve pursed his lips a little. He was very able to talk, but…he didn’t really want to. It was easier to just be silent. 

**I’m fine. And I suppose. I don’t want to talk to some doctor though. No, I can’t, sorry. Team’s here. I mean, I could talk in front of them but…also, sorry in advance. Since they were a bit demanding asking I told them your name. Nat will probably stalk you now to make sure you’re not a assassin or something. Tony too, probably.**

**Ollie: Np, np. Lol well I don’t think theyll find much so. *shrugs* And the doctor could really help….you’re not fine, are you?**

Steve bit his lip hard. Damn Oliver’s insightfulness. How could he do that even through text?! He could lie, but…after the compassion Oliver had shown him that seemed too rude to do to the redhead….And what did those little stars mean… Oh, wait, like it was an action…

**Hopefully not! ;) and I guess, maybe… and how do you do that?? Are you psychic????**

**Ollie: Ha! I wish! I just know you. Its funny, really, cuz I just met you. And this is crazy, but call me maybe? But we’re kinda similar I guess**

Steve frowned deeply. What…? **I suppose we are… I just told you I couldn’t whyre you asking again??**

**Ollie: HOW DID YOU NOT GET THE JOKE**

**Ollie: O wait. You’re not from this time. You’re like 100. Damn.**

**Ollie: Sorry! It’s a popular song I quoted!**

**Ooooohh. Gotcha.**

**Ollie: Speaking of music, how do you like my headphones??**

Steve smiled despite the effort it seemed to take. **I’m only 96, thanks. They’re great. I’m listening to them now. Tristam and Pegboard Nerds and Stephen Walking are awesome!!**

**Ollie: Hey, technically you’re only…26? Yeah, math! 26!**

**Yes, Oliver, I’m 26 x)**

**Ollie: Ooo, look at you with your fancy text faces! Nice job keeping up ith modern times! Lol I’m glad you like them though! Are they helping?? What are your fav songs you’ve heard?**

The two got invested in talking about music, and Steve found out that Oliver had tried to make some at one point. 

**You should show me the songs you made!!!!**

**Ollie: no way!! They were awful! Painting and photography is where my art skills lie, not music! Unfortunately hahaha**

**You paint too?!?! So do I! You should send me pictures of some of your stuff!!**

**Ollie: yes!! It’s very relaxing :) and only if you do too! Pic for pic!**

**Deal! Hang on, let me go to my room and find a good one…**

**Ollie: Pfft. Aka all of them!**

**Ollie: Hurryyyy upppp Steveee ughh your so slowwww**

**Ollie: You didnt chicken out did you??**

**Image attached. Click to view.**

**Jeez. Impatient much.**

**Ollie: Woah!! How do you get the trees to look so realistic?! Thats amazing!!**

Steve smiled, and found it came a little easier than it had earlier. He sat at his desk in his art studio, glancing to the large canvas painting of a forest at twilight. The sun was flittering through the trees, making everything gold and green and orange save for one vividly pink flower on the ground, nearly covered by the low branches of one tree. It was one that took him hours, but he was happy with how it turned out, so he’d sent a picture of it to his new friend.

**Thanks! I just picture what it looks like in my head, I don’t know…**

Ollie: Image attached. Click to view.

**I was just about to ask for that :) and that’s cool too!! The faces are creepy, but I like it a lot!**

Steve was impressed the dark picture. There were eerie faces staring at one smiling face in the middle with sneers. It was a meaningful piece, Steve could tell. 

**Ollie: Thx!!! I gotta go to work now tho, sorry! I’ll text or call you later tho! Ttyl Steve, take care!**

**Ollie: And go to your team if you need something!!!!! Ok, now bye!**

**Okay okay…bye Ollie, stay safe and such!**

Steve set his phone aside, and then took off the headphones, seeing the iPod was low on battery anyways. He let out a faint groan, stretching in his chair. He stayed sitting there for a moment, feeling a tad better form his easy conversation with Oliver. But the distraction couldn’t last forever, and Steve was soon once again very aware of the coil of darkness around his throat. He tensed; chest feeling like it would cave in on itself or tear to pieces from the pain that stemmed from seemingly nowhere. The blonde put a hand to his chest, gripping his shirt as his brows creased in pain. This was so much worse than usual…he needed to…but his blades were gone…and his lighters…wait, he’d hidden one behind his paints…!!

Steve stood and headed to the shelves that held many hues of watercolor, oil, and acrylic paints. He reached to the top shelf, shoving the deep red and blues aside and searching and finding…nothing. 

Dammit!!

He leaned his forehead against one of the wood shelves, breathing carefully. Okay, okay. He just needed another distraction, was all…he was in his studio already. Might as well paint whatever came to mind…that sometimes lightened the fog too… 

Soon Steve was sitting in his rolling stool before an easel, a lineup of acrylic paints next to him. He let his mind wander to the easy, peaceful place it did when he let his brush move without conscious thought, softly saying, “Jarvis, put on the song “Break Them” by Areo Chord, please.” It was one of the songs that he’d really liked. 

”Yes, sir. Do you wish for me to let the playlist attached to the video play?”

”Sure.”

As the notes began to wash from Jarvis’ speakers in his studio, Steve let his brush start to drag over the white canvas. He didn’t think of anything, and barely even noticed as he mixed and applied new colors.

_Red now. No, darker red. There. And yellow. Then blue, right about there. And a orange ish red here…_

_~There is nothing that they can do,_

_To protect a king and his fool._

_Caught in the fire, watch, it, burn._

_Ash to ash, now it's our turn,_

_Take their kingdom down, and smash it, to pieces._

_Turn their feet around, they will be, defeated._

_They will crumble, at the sight of, our legion._

_If you want the crown, then you've got to break. Them. Down._

_Break them~_

The bass thudded through Steve’s chest, leaving little room for the twisting, aching pain. He ended up with a nice, simplistic painting of the team heading home with tired smiles after a battle, still suited up and dirty with grime from the battle.

_~Break them down~_

As the song dropped again, Steve grabbed a blank canvas and let his mind wander again. By the time he came back to himself this time, though, he was horrified to see a dark, murky picture in front of him. Many faces sneered at him through what looked like a fog, and Steve recognized one of the faces to be his father’s, and the others were as nameless and featureless as all the “customers” had become to Steve after a while but they’d all sneered at him just like the faces in the painting were doing and his father had always worn that disgusted expression when he threw Steve to the ground or smashed his beer bottles over his head then drag the jagged ends into his skin just to watch Steve’s face crease and his body try futilely to jerk away from the pain and cruel grip―

Shaken, Steve grabbed one of his larger brushes and smeared bright red over the entire painting. He threw the canvas across the room, uncaring of where it landed. He heard the wooden frame snap and felt a tiny bit of satisfaction. Hands now a little unsteady, Steve started on a fresh canvas as the next song came on. This one was lacking words completely, and Steve found it a bit soothing as he was swept up in the stroke of bristles on paper once more. Eventually, his hands steadied as he painted.

This time, when Steve looked at the finished product, it was Bucky as a kid. Bruised and laughing from a rough game of ball but smiling so widely Steve knew he didn’t even feel the purple blotches. He smiled faintly, setting that one aside to dry as well and starting another painting. He didn’t realize how long that detailed one had taken him― it’s already been two hours. But Steve paid no mind to time.

The next painting took another hour, as it was also fairly detailed. When he re-focused and took in what he’d made, Steve’s eyes widened. Too many broken, bloodied, small bodies were littering the street he’d grown up on. Arms were bent in directions they shouldn’t go, faces were blank and there was too much blood. One child had long slices down the length of her arms just like Steve had made and another was blue with a thick bruise around his neck with the imprint of a rope in it and they were all _dead_ and would Steve have looked like that too if the rope hadn’t snapped oh God he didn’t want to think about his mother’s face if she’d come home to find him like that but at least then he’d be dead too―

Steve took that canvas and ripped the whole thing in half, then hurled the pieces towards where he’d thrown the other. He stood quickly, rushing out of the room. No no no! This wasn’t what he’d wanted when he sat down to paint!! He hadn’t wanted to see such small bodies so shattered and their eyes so blank and to be reminded of the face that had always screamed at him that he was weak and should never have been born and he was right Bucky would have gotten to live a full happy life if Steve hadn’t let him die―

The Captain made it to his living room and paced. He didn’t know what to do. There were no razors or lighters to be found to quiet his mind, and even opening the balcony door and throwing himself off it seemed like it wouldn’t be all that helpful, and at least he could breathe right, he wasn’t wheezing for air, but his chest _hurt_ ….

…maybe he should go to one of the others. They could distract him. Maybe Tony could ramble about one of his projects. Or Bruce.

Yeah, Bruce seemed like a good idea. The man was calm and kind and didn’t push too hard. 

Steve got back in the elevator, fidgeting. Maybe…maybe he shouldn’t go… he didn’t want to bother Bruce, and he should be stronger than to let such old memories bother him so much. He shouldn’t go, he shouldn’t…

_“Hero or not, you’re worth the effort. You got me??”_

The sudden memory of Oliver’s words made Steve purse his lips. Before he lost the nerve, he said, “Jarvis, take me to whatever floor Bruce’s lab is on. Is he there?”

”He is, Captain. It’s the sixtieth floor, by the way,” the AI responded. 

”Oh. Okay. Yeah, sixtieth floor then, please.”

It seemed like it was only seconds before Steve realized the elevator doors were open, and he thought he remembered hearing the ding of them opening a few minutes ago. Huh. 

The blonde walked into the large room, seeing various microscopes and freezers scattered around for experiments. He marveled a little at Tony’s accommodations for them to live here. Every time Steve saw it, it reminded him Tony wasn’t a _complete_ prick. 

”Steve?” The blonde turned at the sound of his name from where he was looking at a lineup of…he didn’t even know what it was, actually. His baby blues fell on Bruce, who was covered in…some sort of green substance. It didn’t look too pleasant. 

The Captain blinked. “Hey. What…what is that?” 

Bruce glanced down at himself. “Oh. It’s…a failed attempt at a molecular variation of sodium c―” he stopped, knowing he’d get caught up in a ramble Steve wouldn’t understand if he kept talking. “It’s a failed experiment, suffice it to say.” He finished bashfully, smiling a little. 

Steve felt his lips twitch upwards fondly. “Oh. Well, shouldn’t you maybe…wash it off? It doesn’t look very…safe.”

Bruce waved it off, grabbing a tray of slides for his microscope and bringing them to the freezer Steve was standing by. “It’s not toxic. I figured that out when it landed in my eye. Stung like a bitch. And I thought these were supposed to stop that, too!” He said, tapping the corner of his glasses. 

”I think that’s what the safety glasses are for, Bruce,” Steve said, a faint tone of amusement coloring his words. 

Bruce waved vaguely as he rifled through his test tubes, grabbing the one he needed before shutting the freezer. “I melted them. Need to ask Tony for more.” Before Steve could respond to that past raised brows, Bruce smirked. “And what’s your explanation for being a walking add for gay pride?”

Steve blinked, glancing down. Oh. He did look close to a rainbow. Damn. He always forgot how much of a mess he made whenever he painted. He swiped an equally splattered hand over his shirt as if it would help, chuckling a little. It didn’t reach his eyes. “Heh, right, um, painting. I always make a mess.” 

”Ahh, I see.” Bruce headed back into the next room where he’d come from, motioning for Steve to follow him. He did, and found an array of chemicals and holograms of data and equations spread out around Bruce’s desk, with calm music playing in the background. It sounded like dubstep, but it was mellower. It was nice. Bruce pressed something on one of the holograms and the music changed to classical instead. Steve took in the seemingly disorganized mess of information idly, forgetting for a moment why he was even down here. 

Bruce set the tube in a little stand for it over a Bunsen burner, sat on his stool, and then motioned for Steve to take the other. The blonde did so, bracing his feet wide on the footrest and reaching for the hologram that was off to the side. “Can I look?” 

”Yeah, that one’s wrong anyways. I really messed it up, need to scrap it…” The scientist took his glasses off and set them aside, deep brown eyes taking in Steve’s fidgety hands as he reached out and grabbed the hologram tentatively, bringing it to his lap to read. Before the blonde could get too distracted, Bruce asked, “Why are you here, Steve?” 

Blue orbs flicked up to him, and then quickly back down. Bruce could tell Steve wasn’t focusing on the file before him though. “I um………was hopin’ you wouldn’t mind just. Talking. You ‘nd Tony ‘r good at that. Ramblin’. Would distract me. But if you’re busy…!”

Bruce shook his head, smoothing down the curl he could see in his upper peripheral vision. It kept falling there… “No, I can take a few to talk. You need a distraction, is all? I can lend an ear instead, if that’s what you need.” 

Steve met his eyes again, and shook his head, a tiny smile curving his lips. “No, thanks. For now I wanna look at this stuff, but later, yeah. You can tell me bout what you’re tryin’ to do here. If you want.” 

So Steve wasn’t ready to talk; he just needed someone there and something to prevent him from thinking too much. Bruce understood that. “Gotcha. Ask away whenever you want to,” the brunette said before going back to his current equation. He could wait until Steve was ready. 

”Also, thanks for coming down.” At Steve’s questioning look Bruce clarified: “You needed something and you came for it. Good job.” 

Steve looked a little surprised by the compliment, but nodded nonetheless. Maybe Oliver was right…going for help wasn’t so bad, really. 

The two fell into a comfortable silence, with Bruce muttering occasionally to himself and flipping through what seemed like an insane amount of files on his holograms. Steve was frowning at the supposedly useless equation in his lap. When he’d first been unfrozen, he’d spent a while merely catching up on what had happened and learning how to use modern technology and live in a world ruled by it. Once he’d managed to adapt, Steve found that when he wasn’t preoccupied and held back by lack of money or a war, he soaked up information like a sponge. He’d quickly learned how to order books off the internet, and before long, he’d filled three large bookshelves in his living room with fiction and nonfiction alike. Among them, at one point, Steve had picked up a book on molecular chemistry and basic chemistry. It didn’t come to him easily, but he’d still found it fascinating to learn how organisms worked on such a small level. When he’d paired it with the psychology book Natasha had gotten him for his last birthday, he’d quickly become engrossed in the workings of the brain. 

What Bruce was working on, similarly, seemed to be on artificially inducing calm. Steve figured that only made sense, considering the Hulk. He recognized the chemical equations for the neurotransmitters norepinephrine, serotonin, and tryptophan. He hummed to himself as he pulled up a blank hologram sheet on the desk next to him, writing down the equations for norepinephrine and serotonin. He’d read about those in his psychology and neurology books, so he knew serotonin had to do with mood regulation and norepinephrine with the fight or flight response and thus blood pressure, which he recalled Bruce saying was an issue with the Hulk. Whenever the brunette’s blood pressure got too high, it was a problem…

Bruce’s work, he could see, involved the equations for how the brain would adjust to the new synthetic forms of the neurotransmitters. Steve was thankful he’d soaked up the basic chemistry and calculus so fast, because it came in handy when trying to decipher Bruce’s scrawled numbers and letters. 

”So you were aiming for the brain’s neural pathways to not only accept these artificial neurotransmitters, but for it to actually accept it _before_ the natural ones. So it could act before your blood pressure got too high or your mood too excited, and thus stop the Hulk?” Steve asked. He was already putting equations together on his new hologram, but he wanted to make sure he was aiming for the right thing. 

Bruce glanced away from his tissue sample, eyes a little wide. He hadn’t thought Steve would actually _read_ the work…”Uh, yeah. But on that file I forgot to account for tryptophan’s influence. It hits the brain before serotonin does. I forgot it in my math, and it messed the whole thing up.” 

Before Bruce could ask how Steve had even known what a neurotransmitter _was,_ the Captain tapped his fingers in an odd rhythm on the desk, and scribbled an equation down. “No, that would actually… oh, I see, I see.” His hand flew across the page, re-doing the math to include the forgotten neurotransmitter. In only a few minutes before he was done. 

Steve leaned back briefly to check over what he’d done that Bruce had forgotten to do in his math the first time. “Right. That actually wouldn’t affect anything. Not since you used sodium and glucose as your base for the drug. That was smart, now the tryptophan doesn’t prevent it from working.”

Steve spoke as he continued the math past where Bruce had, so focused on the math and how the chemicals all worked together and accented one another he wasn’t thinking of the ache in his chest anymore. The brunette was gaping at the blonde, and stood, coming next to him and watching him work silently. Steve’s fingers continued to tap unconsciously in that odd pattern as he worked.

”What you actually forgot that would affect the drug was tyramine. Its whole purpose is blood pressure regulation….” More equations were tested, and Steve crossed out a couple when they didn’t work. Within minutes he circled one. “Tyramine would make the drug null and useless. But if you used synthetic THC, and removed….ah, what is it… I can’t remember the ingredients in it, but some of them cause the opposite of what you want…wait, scratch that.” The blonde crossed out his circled math and tried again. 

”Get _natural_ THC, and if you take out the hydrocarbons…” more scribbling “…dunno how you’d do it, I’m no chemist, but if you did, then you shouldn’t get any increased blood pressure. Right. Then take that and put…” another pause as Steve did a couple simple calculations, “…point six four milligrams of it into your drug, and take _out_ point three milligrams of the glucose you have in it now, then you should overcome the brain’s natural tyramine.” 

Steve fumbled for a moment to select a red pen instead of the blue he’d been using, and underlined the main, important numbers he’d come up with that were scattered amongst the math. Then he looked over his work, nodded one he confirmed there were no errors, and glanced to Bruce. “That should work, right?”

Bruce was still staring at the math laid out in front of him in awe. He looked between the hologram and Steve, completely at a loss. “That…should indeed work. I’ll have to…wait, but how can I get natural THC…then again Tony is Tony, he can probably get some somehow. I don’t even want to know how many people he probably knows that could get me some…” the scientist took the hologram, bringing it next to his others and making a master list of equations and numbers. Once done, he had the chemical equation for his improved drug, and he blinked when he realized Steve had just solved the issue he’d been trying to work around for _weeks._

He turned back to the Captain, who was looking at the list over his shoulder interestedly. He glanced to Bruce and smiled a little. 

”Steve, where the hell did you learn all that??” Bruce asked, going to sit on the desk next to the man. Steve looked up only slightly at Bruce, since the stool was a tall one, and shrugged. 

”I read a lot. Lots to learn nowadays.” 

Bruce stared. “You read a lot,” he echoed, stunned. “By “reading a lot”, you realize you just outdid a Ph.D., right?” Steve blinked, and shook his head. 

”No, I only told you which neurotransmitter you forgot, and did a little math, was all. It’s not like I’m that smart, Bruce,” Steve brushed it off. 

”Not that smart?! Are you joking?? That math would’ve taken me like an hour to do! It was advanced calculus and algebra! It took you like thirty minutes!” Bruce glanced to the clock. “No, it took you twenty, actually! Did the serum enhance your intelligence?? Have you ever taken an IQ test?” 

The blonde furrowed his brow and shook his head. “I don’t know if it did. No one checked. I think after it I sort of…think…faster. But… I mean, I read my mom’s college book once when I was ten, and Bucky told me I should go to college because I was smart enough to. I thought it was just an easier book. And I’ve never taken an IQ test.” 

Bruce shook his head, baffled. “Would you be willing to take one tomorrow? It’s late now, and they take a while, but I think you might be a literal genius.” 

Steve laughed loudly at that, though it was a disbelieving one, and seemed more of a reflex than a real laugh. “Yeah right! But sure, I’ll humor you tomorrow.” 

Bruce chuckled, taking note in the back of his mind at Steve’s still-present apathy. “Okay, maybe not _genius,_ but in all seriousness, Steve, you’re seriously smart and I’m surprised I never noticed before.”

The Captain shook his head again. “Whatever you want to tell yourself…”

The scientist cocked his head. “…You really don’t believe you’re smart, do you?” He could read the quirk of Steve’s brow loud and clear as: “no shit” and frowned. He laid a hand on Steve’s shoulder, patting briefly before drawing away. 

”How do you not think that? Even Tony can’t keep up with half of what I do, and he’s got an IQ of like…one forty, or something crazy like that.”

Steve looked both mildly bored and confused. “Why would I? And no wonder he brags, hm…” 

Bruce pursed his lips a little in displeasure. “Because you’re clearly gifted and were before the serum as well. So if you can help me with something from hours of reading that should’ve taken you years of studying to understand at the level and speed that you do, why don’t you think you’re smarter than average?” He was trying to coax a real reason out of Steve, fully expecting it to be traced back to the man’s father. Bruce’s own had never missed an opportunity to insult his own intelligence, after all. And from what little Bruce knew, it was probably the same for Steve. 

”Because…because I’m just…not.” It was really that simple, after all…

”Who told you that?”

”No one had to. I already knew,” Steve said tensely. This was going where he thought it was, wasn’t it…

Alright, fine, he’d do this the blunt way. Apparently Tony and Clint’s strategy had some merits with Steve. “Your father told you, didn’t he?” 

Steve was carefully quiet for a long moment. “Yes… Plenty of times, whenever he saw me reading… But I don’t see how that matters.” 

”Well, it obviously convinced you of the lie, that’s why it matters.” Bruce was persisting, not about to let this conversation slide. He had to get through to Steve…someone did. And the sooner the better, because the blonde clearly wasn’t able to do this on his own anymore. He’d been strong for too long. 

”It wasn’t a lie, though.” Steve spoke as if it wasn’t a big deal at all, and a simple fact he was stating.

Bruce’s brows drew even more. “Just what did your father say to you? You said he was verbally and emotionally abusive, didn’t you?”

The blonde’s shoulders were going all rigid again. Damn. Bruce hadn’t wanted that.

“He said lots a’ things. And sure, he was. Doesn’t matter now though,” Steve said dismissively and cautiously. He didn’t like talking about his father…why dwell on such things? This was only reminding him of the hazy, sneering face he’d drawn hours ago. 

Bruce nodded slowly, looking down for a moment as he spoke, gathering his words at the same time. Thus, he spoke a bit slowly. “Steve…only Tony knows this, since he hacked into all our files, but my father was abusive as well. The only thing he wasn’t was sexually abusive….so, while I can’t relate to that horrible experience of yours, I do know the feeling of being screamed at by a face that should show you love and instead shows more hate than should ever be in anyone. I know how it feels to ignore a broken arm or rib because you think the pain and hits were deserved. And I know that while dwelling on such things isn’t helpful, talking about them to help you get over the trauma _is_ helpful.” He paused to meet the worryingly blank blue eyes. “I can lend you an understanding ear.”

Steve didn’t know what to say to that. The fog made it hard to think. He was pretty sure he was mad…at Bruce’s father, yes. Very mad. The kind man before him most certainly hadn’t deserved such cruelty…yet Steve felt like he should be inferring something from Bruce’s admission. But he didn’t know what. 

”I…I’m sorry you had to go through that. I don’t know what you want me to say to that, though.” 

”…Cap, you never had the chance to talk about anything that happened to you. I can’t imagine having all my abuse bottled up, I don’t think I could handle it. So I wanted to tell you that so you’d be more comfortable sharing with me, get it?” Bruce was even more worried now. Steve was usually good at reading people, yet he didn’t seem to be following Bruce’s obvious point. 

Steve nodded slowly. “Okay…? I think I understand…but why?” Through this concrete fog, almost nothing made it through. He just didn’t understand why Bruce would be telling him all this…plus, he _really_ didn’t want to talk about it. 

”Because I care about you. And I want to see you happy. That’s really all there is to it.” It made Bruce’s heart ache to see just how little Steve thought of himself, and subsequently, how little he expected others to think of him. 

Steve frowned at Bruce, trying to make sense of that. “You…” he shook his head lightly. “Alright, whatever you say.” 

” …You’re not yourself.” At the look of “we’ve been over this already”, Bruce clarified: “I mean even more so than yesterday, Steve. What’s wrong?” 

Steve’s lips thinned, and he didn’t move. Bruce sighed. Steve was a fucking brick wall in more than one way. 

”You’re not going to get away with shit like that anymore. I’ll make you a deal: either you talk to me right now, or save it for the therapist. Speaking of, I have a list of ‘em for you to choose from whenever you’re ready.” Bruce flicked a hologram of the file in front of Steve, who glanced at it before turning away, back to Bruce. That decision was an easy one.

”Fine. Whatever. You want to know so badly? The fog isn’t moving,” Steve nearly growled. He would talk, but only so Bruce wouldn’t bring up the damn therapist again….and maybe…just maybe, it would lighten the fog a little. 

The brunette waited, his face clearly asking for elaboration. Steve gave a frustrated huff, and forced the words out. It was worth a try, right? 

”Usually it moves. Comes and goes, gets darker or lighter on its own. But it’s not…it’s just black now. It’s not moving. When it’s here it’s hard to feel anything. But now…I can’t feel at all. And I should be concerned about that.” The blonde frowned at himself. “But I’m not. I don’t care. But I don’t care about much at all. It’s weird.” 

Bruce was quiet as he took that in. “So it’s gotten a lot worse, then…dammit,” he muttered angrily. He wished the team could do something more…!! Anything! “Well, I know about how the brain works, but not on a psychological level…so unfortunately I can’t help you much there, short of giving advice on things to distract yourself with… oh, I’ll show you how to meditate later! That could help!” Bruce perked a little despite the sigh and uncaring nod Steve gave. “For now though…I’m gonna try and lessen the load off you. Tell me…tell me the worst thing your father ever said to you.” 

Steve looked mildly surprised by the question. But then again, Bruce had to ask something somewhat specific, so… “Um…” his mind didn’t need any coaxing to think back through memories of slurred, hateful words amongst the ones of bruises and pains. He knew which event had hurt the most. But he didn’t want to tell Bruce. He didn’t want to tell anyone.

“………..”

”Steve…” Bruce started, voice imploring. “Please.” 

After a long pause Steve decided to take another leap of faith like he had when he’d told his team about the fog. They’d come through for him then, so they probably would now… and he trusted Bruce…

”………probably: “

_Steve was clutching at his ribs, already knowing there would be purple boot prints on them come morning. His father slurred and yelled above him, which wasn’t new. But this time, the words were hitting harder than usual._

_”Yer the worst mistake anyone’s ever made! S’ no wonder not even yer parents wan’ you! Yer good fer nothing…nothing but being a…” ___

Steve stopped his recollection, not wanting to say the rest even as his mind replayed the words over and over. 

”Finish, Steve,” Bruce said firmly. He could see the pain in those blue eyes, and wondered what scene Steve wasn’t describing to him that went along with the monotone words he was relaying to him. Bruce had careful control over his breathing, but he wasn’t about to tell Steve to stop talking just so he wouldn’t upset him or anything. 

Fists clenching, Steve took the metaphorical lock off his mouth.

_”Yer good fer nothing but being a cheap hole fer s’me des…desperate bast’rds to fuck an’ a outlet fer anyone who hates you ‘s much as I do. Wh’ch is everyone, so y’ do yer job well.” Another fist smashed into his face, and he felt his lip split. At least his ma wasn’t here tonight. His father would’ve found some excuse to take out his rage on her too. Not that Steve would’ve let him. He stood between his parents whenever he could. He wouldn’t let his father hurt his ma!_

_The hateful words continued, making Steve’s blood go cold. “S’ the only thing y’ **are** good at, so good fucking job! Next time you decide ta cut yourself like a crazy bitch, take out the trash for me, why don’t cha? S’ not worth getting’ my hands dirty to kill ya myself…”_

Steve trailed off, but a gentle encouragement from Bruce had the rest spilling out. 

_”So man up and do it yerself. You already wan’ to, so yer not **completely** stupid. Yet ya failed even at that! Yer jus’ that useless! Do the one smart thing and slice yer fucking throat, already. Then ‘gain y’d prob’ly fuck that up too, wouldn’t ya? Be too much of a coward ta dig deep ‘nough?”_

The memory ended with a smash and then darkness. His father had been sober, at that point, and the first beer bottle was smashed into Steve’s temple. It had only been the start to that night. His ma had been stuck on another double shift. 

Steve looked dup to see Bruce’s eyes both sad and pissed at the same time. And faintly green. Oh no…he shouldn’t have tried to reach out, he knew it…! The Captain got up off the stool, stammering out, “Sorry I shouldn’t have said that don’t worry about it―” 

”Sit back down. We’re definitely not done talking about this,” Bruce ordered. The blonde froze, torn because he wanted _out_ but he’d only get cornered about it again eventually…Steve reluctantly sat, hands twisting together anxiously. 

After Bruce was sure he wouldn’t Hulk out, he spoke again. “How old were you…?”

”…Eleven, I think. Maybe twelve.” 

Another slow breath. “And did that have anything to do with why you tried to kill yourself the first time?”

”…No... That was after I tried. Although I was tempted after that, I admit.” It was easier to speak honestly, now. Once he started it flowed without him having to think too hard or start to panic… The fog hadn’t moved though, like Steve had hoped it might. 

Well that wasn’t good…that meant the idea had gotten into Steve on its own. Shit.”….I have to be honest, Steve, from what I know, that’s one of the worst cases of abuse I’ve ever heard of. My father said some horrible things, but…well, he said some similar things to me, in fact. But he merely implied them. I can’t imagine how much that must have…God…I would Hulk out gladly and let him beat the shit out of your father.” 

Steve was admittedly surprised at that admission. Bruce never wanted to Hulk out unless it was absolutely necessary… “Oh. Well. I dunno. It is what it is.” 

”And how long…did all this go on for?” 

”Depends. If you count all of it, start to finish…eight or nine years?” 

Bruce shook his head, jaw clenched. There weren’t any words for that. There just weren’t. “Do one thing for me. If only this.” Steve nodded, so Bruce continued, “Know that none of what he said was true. You’re a good man. One of the best I’ve met. None of what he did was your fault, you hear me? None of it was deserved, and it was only your father’s fault any of it happened. Your father was the one in the wrong. You understand?” He demanded gently.

Steve looked like he was having a hard time comprehending again, though. “But I…it _was_ my fau―”

 _”No,”_ Bruce said sharply. “Don’t think that. He made you believe lies. Got it? Say it: it wasn’t your fault.” 

His mouth opened, closed, and then opened again. “It…wasn’t my fault…?” 

”Again.”

A deep frown, but Steve humored his friend. “It wasn’t my fault.” _It was._

”One day you’ll believe that. Was it my fault my father called me a monster and murdered my mother right in front of me?” 

”No!”

”Then why is it yours?”

He barely paused. “Because I’m nothing! You’re…you’re _Bruce,_ and you’re worth something. I’m not.” 

Bruce focused on arguing rather than the pain Steve’s words caused him. “How do you know? Just cause of what he said? You gonna believe one drunk idiot?” 

”I was useless even before he decided to start reminding me!” Why couldn’t Bruce see it?? “It’s not hard, Bruce! I shouldn’t be here! I don’t deserve to be and I was a mistake!” 

Bruce fired back without thinking, taking the chance his words would get through to Steve instead of upset him more. ”So what? You’re here now, so why not make the best of it? You’re a super solider, you’ve already helped so many people, why kill yourself?” 

”Because I…! I don’t want it… to…to hurt anymore. And I’m not needed, so what’s the point…?” Steve deflated, the haze digging its claws deeper still. 

”There’s other ways to make it not hurt. The point is to be happy, Steve. Laughing with Bucky? Meeting Peggy? The team joking around? That’s the point,” Bruce said confidently. “I had to learn that too. I tried to put a bullet in my mouth, and the Other Guy spit it out. I didn’t have to do anything. I could’ve let myself rot in a hole for the rest of my life. You know what I did? I got my shit together and decided to make a difference while I’m here instead of giving up.” So he was getting a little angry now, who cared? He wasn’t in danger of Hulking, and he couldn’t hold back the words. Steve needed to hear them. 

The blonde seemed to be considering them, too. Steve was amazed when the haze’s talons loosened and withdrew from the gaping wounds in his chest. He could breathe again…! With his new clarity, however slight, Steve looked at Bruce with wide, vulnerable eyes and asked, “It….wasn’t my fault…? I…” he trailed off, at a loss as happy memories bombarded him. Bruce was right…he never would’ve met Peggy…or the team…never would’ve laughed when Clint fell from the vents in the tower because they weren’t meant to hold do much weight…. Never would’ve seen the pure curiosity and joy on Thor’s face when they took hm to his first 3D movie or to the circus…. never would’ve helped save New York…

If it wasn’t his fault, maybe it was worth another shot…

Bruce nodded sharply. “It wasn’t.” He could see the words getting to Steve and was relieved. But he saw the moment the blonde realized something else and looked up at him, eyes pained. 

”But that means…it was an innocent kid the whole time. Who didn’t deserve…” Steve looked baffled and lost, shaking his head and shutting his eyes. His arm itched, and he scratched at it unconsciously. Bruce was standing before him in seconds, holding his hands gently to keep him from scratching. 

”That’s right. That’s why child abuse is so horrible― no kid deserves that.” Thank God Steve now didn’t think of himself as an exception to this, thank God. 

Steve blinked away the stinging in his eyes as he looked into Bruce’s, seeing determination and pain there, but also conviction and a certainty Steve couldn’t possibly refute. 

”…Oh.”

Bruce smiled sadly and nodded. “I know. It sucks to realize. What do you need? When I went through that it wasn’t pretty…”

”I-I don’t know. I don’t know.” He was lost. What did that mean? Every cruel hand, every unwanted touch, every broken bone, he didn’t _actually_ deserve?! 

”How about food? You haven’t eaten still, I’m guessing, and you need to. Maybe a movie while we eat to distract you?” Bruce’s hands were on Steve’s shoulders, steadying the man.

Steve shook his head, looking down. “Not hungry.” His mind was racing, so fast he couldn’t focus on any one thing even if he wanted to. 

”Okay, how about we… head up for some tea, then? That always calms me.” Bruce hoped one of the others would be on the common floor and know what to do, because at this point, Bruce was at a loss. He’d never seen Steve quite so…distant and confused. 

Steve shrugged, and didn’t protest when Bruce urged him off the stool and into the elevator. Bruce managed to distract Steve by rambling about his project in greater detail, and the blonde was grateful for it. He tried to follow what Bruce was saying even though his explanation was delving deeper than his understanding went. He’d have to read more on it… 

Steve realized he and Bruce were already in the kitchen, and wondered how he’d somehow forgotten the past few minutes. He shook his head lightly then rubbed his eyes as Bruce put a tea kettle on, much to Tony’s amusement. Wait, had Tony been there when they walked in? Had Steve not noticed that either…??

”Bruce, dude, I have so many quicker ways to make tea! Kettles are ancient!” 

”Sometimes old-fashioned is better,” Bruce shrugged. 

Tony pouted a little, tapping away at his tablet at the bar. Despite attempting to look disinterested, his voice gave away his concern as he asked, “So is Cap okay?” The blonde was now sitting at the kitchen table, resting his head on his arms and looking very lost, very tired, and far younger than he usually did. 

”He…we talked a bit. It hit him a bit hard. Thankfully I think I got through to him a little though.” 

The billionaire nodded slowly. “Can…would it be bad if I asked what was said?” He was _curious_ , sue him! Plus he wanted to know what had hurt his friend so badly…

Bruce hummed, his lips thinning as he pondered that. Finally he turned, the kettle now heating up, and asked, “Steve, are you okay with Tony and the others knowing what we talked about? And for the future as well, if they ask, are you okay with me or anyone else you talk to, like, relaying stuff to them?” 

”Jarvis records a lot, so he could just replay the conversations for us, if they were within range of his microphones,” Tony added helpfully. 

Steve gave a soft, dismissive noise. He felt like he’d been awake for days…what time was it…? He sat up, glancing to the clock on the wall and surprised it was only seven in the evening. Weird. Oh well. Oh, wait, he was supposed to answer..? 

”Oh, uh, I don’t care. That’s fine, whatever…” Steve said. Bruce nodded, brows furrowed at Steve’s still-present apathy. 

”Have Jarvis play it whenever you all want to listen to it, then,” Bruce told Tony.

Steve stood and headed to the elevator, really wanting his headphones to drown out the twisting claws in his chest and the buzzing thoughts in his head. It was disorienting and painful...he needed the music to push away the white noise of his mind for a little while. Bruce, however, stopped the Captain. 

”Wait, Steve…” The blonde stopped and turned, waiting. 

”You need to eat something, and no offense, but I don’t want you alone right now,” Bruce said honestly. There was no use trying to sugar coat anything, Steve was too smart for that. 

The super solider waved him off. “I just want Oliver’s headphones. I’ll be right back down.” Without waiting for a response he was soon on his way up to his floor where he left the orange headphones in his studio. Steve headed back down listening to the same playlist he’d had Jarvis play earlier, but the AI had thoughtfully downloaded the songs onto Steve’s phone for him. 

Steve came back down to the common floor listening to a song that soothed his frazzled nerves perfectly, and idly scrolled through the news on the table (which was apparently also a tablet?? Technology was crazy where Tony was involved!) as he drank the tea Bruce offered. 

__

He paid little mind to Thor, Clint, and Natasha as they filtered in, not realizing the wider smiles on everyone’s faces were because he was here with them once more. 

__

“So, in recent news, Steve helped me solve an issue with my current project,” Bruce said, drawing the attention of his teammates. Minus Steve, who couldn’t hear them over the music in his hears and was now…playing pokémon shuffle on the table tablet. Guess the allure of video games had drawn him in despite the whole culture shock thing. 

”He…he did?” Clint asked, surprised. He couldn’t begin to understand the complex equations and shit Bruce worked on every day! 

”Mm-hmm. He actually corrected my math. Saved me a ton of work, too…and he might’ve really helped me get farther,” Bruce smiled, finishing off his own tea. “He did what would have taken me an hour of calculation in twenty minutes. Not to mention he found the solution I’d spent weeks looking for.” 

”….damn. How’d he know that stuff?” Natasha asked curiously. Thor looked intrigued. 

”The good Captain has never shown you his remarkable intelligence before?” Curious eyes turned towards Thor as Steve began rocking gently to the rhythm of the song he was listening to. 

”Not…apparently not?” Tony said. 

Thor laughed. “He once drove out to the wilderness with me to show me Midgard’s stars, and could name nearly every constellation and planetary systems he could see! Steven is quite gifted!” 

”Wow, who knew Cap was a braniac?” Tony muttered, admittedly taken off guard by the information. “Maybe I’ll have him try to take apart one of my little trinkets and see if he can figure it out. Could be funny.” 

”Or he’ll set himself on fire,” Clint said dubiously. “Steve may be smart, but he’s always seemed a bit baffled by engineering stuff.” 

”Well no shit, Legolas, he’s from the forties!” Tony shot back. 

Clint blinked. “Oh, Right.” 

Natasha huffed a laugh. “You’re both―” 

”Dangit! Stupid Lucario!!!” Steve’s angry grumble interrupted Nat, and the five Avengers looked to Steve to see him irritably turning the game then the table off. He pushed the headphones down to around his neck, paused the music, and glanced up at his team. His cheeks turned a very faint pink at the attention as he realized why they were staring at him. “Er, sorry, sorry, it was just…it wouldn’t stay in the ball…” he explained meekly, looking down. 

”Wouldn’t have pegged you for a gaming guy, Steve,” Clint said amusedly. 

Steve ran a hand through his hair, shrugging. “Pokémon is neat. I admit it…” he glanced to the tea kettle, but decided against getting another cup. The blonde stood and headed around into the living room, stopping behind the Avengers sitting on the barstools as he was spoken to again. 

”So when were you gonna tell us you’re a smartie?” Tony teased. Steve blinked a few times. 

”Smartie? Really?”

”Oh, Sorry; a smartie-poo. Stevie-bear’s a smartie-pooo~” Tony corrected, pursing his lips as if giving kisses. Steve gaped, looking like he didn’t even know how to respond to that as Thor and Clint laughed. Bruce and Nat had the decency to stifle their chuckles, although they couldn’t help the smirks. 

”R…right. I’m just gonna…” Steve said, heading to the couch. He put the headphones on the coffee table again, and sighed as he buried his face in the fluffy pillow at the end of the couch. He was facedown, clearly too lazy to go back up to his room and lay down. 

”Awww, is Stevie-bear tired?” Tony cooed, coming over and sitting on the blonde’s pelvis. Steve squawked quietly, craning his head to look back at Tony incredulously. 

”I― um― yes? And I― I’m not the couch?” Steve stammered. 

”But you’re comfyyy,” Tony drawled, leaning back. Steve huffed a laugh and laid his head back down. 

”Alright, alright, you can use me as a couch if you’re so inclined,” the Captain muttered into the pillow. He felt a little…lighter, for some reason, with Tony touching and teasing him. It was…it was nice. Tony raised a brow, as did Natasha. Usually whenever Tony got touchy and teasing, Steve would blush and stammer and gently push him away. Well, occasionally, the Captain would allow for sitting close with shoulders and legs pressed together, but never something like Tony sitting _on top_ of him! Before, they assumed it was the ingrained 40’s manners; personal space and all that. Now the team understood why Steve had shied away from their casual touches. He was used to touches to harm, not friendly ones. 

Tony smiled now, though. Steve was probably simply too out of it to protest, but hey, if this meant he was getting a little more comfortable with them, the billionaire was happy! Tony relaxed back against the couch, going back to drawing out designs on his StarkPad. The others found other things to occupy themselves with, while Thor got into a discussion with Natasha about an Asgardian form of martial arts similar to judo. He promised to show her sometime. 

The team was utterly relaxed right then. Despite how his mind was racing just minutes ago, the Captain was now only paying attention to the presence of his team. Nat’s soft voice, Bruce’s muttering as he worked through a chemistry book, Thor’s excitement, Clint’s comments on whatever show he was watching, and Tony…usually he would hate to feel a weight pressing down on him, even strong as he was now. But Tony’s weight was comfortable. It was just…there. Steve couldn’t stop his eyes from closing after a little while, but kept listening to the sounds of his family around him. These people…they were the only reason he was glad he’d been found in that plane. Well, that and he’d helped saved the earth and all, but……mostly…mostly his team.

After another while, Tony shifted, laying on his back and using Steve like a recliner. His head rested on the back of Steve’s neck, and he could feel the gentle rise and fall of Steve’s breathing beneath him as he typed out equations for new thrusters. Tony was really only a cuddler to tease. Even when he and Pepper were still together a while ago, he wasn’t very touchy. But…he admitted this was kind of…nice. Even if it didn’t involve laughing at a flustered Steve. 

Tony took notice Steve’s breathing was really deep, and he smiled. “Bruce,” he called softly, “is the big blonde teddy bear asleep under me right now??” 

Bruce looked up, seeing Steve’s face utterly relaxed in sleep. He smiled. “He is. Looks about six years younger too.” 

The others stole fond glances at the two lounging on the couch. “It’s good he’s resting…he’s probably emotionally drained…but oversleeping _is_ a symptom of depression…” Clint reasoned. 

Tony hummed, letting the pad drop gently to the floor beside the couch as he focused on the conversation instead. “True…I had the opposite; insomnia. But…J, over the last month or two, has Steve been sleeping more than he technically needs to?” Tony asked. 

As Jarvis calculated that based on Steve’s sleep habits, Natasha frowned at the billionaire. “Jarvis monitors all that?” 

”Well, there’s obviously privacy settings in place, but things like sleep schedules and other habits he does watch. Mostly in case shit like this happens. Surveillance for security tends to catch these things anyways,” Tony explained. Natasha seemed satisfied with that answer. She trusted Tony enough to know he wouldn’t spy on them unnecessarily. 

”Captain Rogers has indeed been sleeping more than an average man of his age would. However, he often wakes from nightmares,” Jarvis answered. 

Five pairs of brows furrowed at this news. Thor spoke up, “We should sleep with the Captain so that he does not wake alone form a night terror!”

Clint chuckled. “I don’t know if he’d want to be with one of us every night on top of being stuck with us during the day too. The guy needs _some_ space…” 

Steve’s brow twitched, and the beginnings of a frown appeared on his face. A dream had started, but at the moment all it was was faint shouts and vague memories.

None of his team noticed, as Natasha piped up, “We could just tell him to come find one of us if he wakes up from one. Or have Jarvis alert us.” 

Tony nodded slowly. “Well, I feel like he won’t do it on his own…Jarvis, new protocols: When Steve wakes up from a nightmare, tell him which of us is awake so he knows who he can go to. Let us know too, so we can make sure he goes to someone when he needs it.” 

”Protocols accepted, sir,” Jarvis said. If an AI could sound pleased, Jarvis did right then. 

Bruce set his book aside. “So, Tony wanted to know what we talked about earlier. Steve came to me wanting a distraction before he helped with my project… I got him to tell me the wort thing his father ever said to him. It was hard getting him to talk, but I managed.” 

Jarvis spoke up again. “I have the recording of the conversation ready, if you wish for me to play it.”

One by one, the Avengers nodded. Clint was the last to do so. “If he trusted you enough to tell you, we shouldn’t just listen in…”

”I asked, he said he didn’t care if you all knew or not,” Brice said. Clint hummed at the news. 

”Alright then, play it, Jarvis.”

At a fairly low volume so as not to disturb Steve, a recording of Bruce and Steve started playing throughout the living room. 

_”Steve, where the hell did you learn all that??”_

_”I read a lot. Lots to learn nowadays.”_

_“You read a lot. By “reading a lot”, you realize you just outdid a Ph.D., right?”_

_”No, I only told you which neurotransmitter you forgot, and did a little math, was all. It’s not like I’m that smart, Bruce.”_

_”Not that smart?! Are you joking?? That math would’ve taken me like an hour to do! It was advanced calculus and algebra! It took you like thirty minutes! No, it took you twenty, actually! Did the serum enhance your intelligence?? Have you ever taken an IQ test?”_

_“I don’t know if it did. No one checked. I think after it I sort of…think…faster. But… I mean, I read Ma’s college book once when I was ten, and Bucky told me I should go to college because I was smart enough to. I thought it was just an easier book. And I’ve never taken an IQ test.”_

_“Would you be willing to take one tomorrow? It’s late now, and they take a while, but I think you might be a literal genius.”_

_A disbelieving laugh from Steve. “Yeah right! But sure, I’ll humor you tomorrow.”_

_Bruce chuckled. “Okay, maybe not _genius,_ but in all seriousness, Steve, you’re seriously smart and I’m surprised I never noticed before.”_

_“Whatever you want to tell yourself…”_

_“…You really don’t believe you’re smart, do you? How do you not think that? Even Tony can’t keep up with half of what I do, and he’s got an IQ of like…one forty, or something crazy like that.”_

”One-forty-three, thank you,” Tony added with a small smirk before past-Steve spoke again.

_“Why would I? And no wonder he brags, hm…”_

_“Because you’re clearly gifted and were before the serum as well. So if you can help me with something from hours of reading that should’ve taken you years of studying to understand at the level and speed that you do, why don’t you think you’re smarter than average?”_

_”Because…because I’m just…not.”_

By now everyone on the team was frowning deeply, both concerned and a bit mad at Steve for thinking so lowly of himself. Bruce was simply listening with a slightly sad expression.

_”Who told you that?”_

_”No one had to. I already knew,” Steve said tensely._

_Bluntly, Bruce asked, “Your father told you, didn’t he?”_

_The recording was silent for a long moment. “Yes… Plenty of times, whenever he saw me reading… But I don’t see how that matters.”_

_”Well, it obviously convinced you of the lie, that’s why it matters.”_

_”It wasn’t a lie, though.” Steve had spoken as if it wasn’t a big deal at all, and a simple fact he was stating._

Tony growled lightly, and Clint and Natasha looked murderous. Thor looked like someone had shot his puppy. That Steve had said that so easily…

_“Just what did your father say to you? You said he was verbally and emotionally abusive, didn’t you?”_

They could hear the tension come into Steve’s voice even over the recording. 

_“He said lots a’ things. And sure, he was. Doesn’t matter now though,” Steve said dismissively and cautiously._

_Bruce was quiet for a moment, and then spoke a bit slowly. “Steve…only Tony knows this, since he hacked into all our files, but my father was abusive as well. The only thing he wasn’t was sexually abusive….so, while I can’t relate to that horrible experience of yours, I do know the feeling of being screamed at by a face that should show you love and instead shows more hate than should ever be in anyone. I know how it feels to ignore a broken arm or rib because you think the pain and hits were deserved. And I know that while dwelling on such things isn’t helpful, talking about them to help you get over the trauma **is** helpful.” _

_Bruce paused for a second. “I can lend you an understanding ear.” ___

Clint and Thor looked to Bruce with compassionate eyes as past-Steve paused again, and the scientist gave them small smiles, waving it off for now. Natasha had already known about Bruce’s father, so she didn’t react visibly. 

_”I…I’m sorry you had to go through that. I don’t know what you want me to say to that, though.”_

_”…Cap, you never had the chance to talk about anything that happened to you. I can’t imagine having all my abuse bottled up, I don’t think I could handle it. So I wanted to tell you that so you’d be more comfortable sharing with me, get it?” Bruce sounded faintly worried_

_. “Okay…? I think I understand…but why?”_

Tony interrupted again. “Is he really so blind not to understand we care―?!” He shut up as the recording continued though. 

_”Because I care about you. And I want to see you happy. That’s really all there is to it,” Bruce said softly and honestly._

_“You……Alright, whatever you say.” Steve sounded so confused…_

_” …You’re not yourself.” Bruce clarified: “I mean even more so than yesterday, Steve. What’s wrong?”_

_Steve was silent. Bruce sighed._

_”You’re not going to get away with shit like that anymore. I’ll make you a deal: either you talk to me right now, or save it for the therapist. Speaking of, I have a list of ‘em for you to choose from whenever you’re ready.”_

It didn’t take long after that for past-Steve to start talking again.

_”Fine. Whatever. You want to know so badly? The fog isn’t moving,” Steve nearly growled._

Thor, Natasha, Clint, and Tony looked concerned now, listening even more attentively to the recording. 

_Bruce waited, and Steve gave a frustrated huff on the recording. He then forced the words out._

_”Usually it moves. Comes and goes, gets darker or lighter on its own. But it’s not…it’s just black now. It’s not moving. When it’s here it’s hard to feel anything. But now…I can’t feel at all. And I should be concerned about that…But I’m not. I don’t care. But I don’t care about much at all. It’s weird.”_

Bruce was quiet as he took that in. The four who were hearing this for the first time, however, all looked pained. Their Captain was in this much pain…? Why hadn’t he ever come to them for help?! 

_The recording continued. “So it’s gotten a lot worse, then…dammit,” Bruce muttered angrily. “Well, I know about how the brain works, but not on a psychological level…so unfortunately I can’t help you much there, short of giving advice on things to distract yourself with… oh, I’ll show you how to meditate later! That could help!” Bruce seemed to perk a little despite the uncaring sigh Steve gave. Bruce continued: “For now though…I’m gonna try and lessen the load off you. Tell me…tell me the worst thing your father ever said to you.”_

_“Um…”_

_“………..”_

The reluctance to speak was obvious.

_”Steve…” Bruce started, voice imploring. “Please.”_

During the long pause, the four Avengers braced themselves, thinking it would be something about how weak Steve was. They knew he hated to be less than strong. They weren’t prepared for what past-Steve started re-telling, though. 

_”………probably: ”You’re the worst mistake anyone’s ever made! S’ no wonder not even you’re parents want you! You’re good for nothing…nothing but being a…” ___

Already the team was shocked and worried by how monotone past-Steve’s voice was as he spoke. They listened to him pause, clearly not wanting to go on.

_”Finish, Steve,” Bruce said firmly._

After another pause, the recording kept going.

_”You’re good for nothing but being a cheap hole for some des…desperate bastards to fuck and a outlet for anyone who hates you as much as I do. Which is everyone, so you do your job well.” Steve paused for a moment again, then continued._

_“S’ the only thing you **are** good at, so good fucking job! Next time you decide to cut yourself like a crazy bitch, take out the trash for me, why don’t cha? S’ not worth getting my hands dirty to kill you myself…”_

Past-Steve trailed off, but a gentle encouragement from Bruce had the rest spilling out. 

_”So man up and do it yourself. You already wan’ to, so you’re not **completely** stupid. Yet you failed even at that! You’re just that useless! Do the one smart thing and slice your fucking throat, already. Then again you’d probably fuck that up too, wouldn’t you? Be too much of a coward ta dig deep enough?”_

The team held their breaths, hardly daring to react. They looked to Steve, whose face had gone back to peaceful as he slept with Tony as his blanket. That such a thing had happened to someone so…inherently _good…_ it made them sick. And irate. 

_They could tell when the pause got too much for Steve. He stammered out, “Sorry I shouldn’t have said that don’t worry about it―”_

_”Sit back down. We’re definitely not done talking about this,” Bruce ordered. There was a small pause again as Steve sat back down._

_“…How old were you…?”_

_”…Eleven, I think. Maybe twelve.”_

As past-Bruce took a slow, calming breath, Clint breathed angrily, “Fucking _eleven…!?”_

_Bruce continued, “And did that have anything to do with why you tried to kill yourself the first time?”_

_”…No... That was after I tried. Although I was tempted after that, I admit.” Steve’s voice was still so blank and… listless._

_”….I have to be honest, Steve, from what I know, that’s one of the worst cases of abuse I’ve ever heard of. My father said some horrible things, but…well, he said some similar things to me, in fact. But he merely implied them. I can’t imagine how much that must have…God…I would Hulk out gladly and let him beat the shit out of your father.”_

_“Oh. Well. I dunno. It is what it is.”_

_”And how long…did all this go on for?”_

_”…Depends. If you count all of it, start to finish…eight or nine years?”_

_“………Do one thing for me. If only this….Know that none of what he said was true. You’re a good man. One of the best I’ve met. None of what he did was your fault, you hear me? None of it was deserved, and it was only your father’s fault any of it happened. Your father was the one in the wrong. You understand?” Bruce demanded gently._

The team nodded along with the recording. Of course that was true…!!!

_Steve sounded like he was having a hard time comprehending, though. “But I…it _was_ my fau―”_

_**”No,”** Bruce interrupted sharply. “Don’t think that. He made you believe lies. Got it? Say it: it wasn’t your fault.” _

_Hesitantly, Steve said, “It…wasn’t my fault…?”_

_”Again.”_

_“…It wasn’t my fault.”_

They could tell Steve didn’t believe what he had said.

_”One day you’ll believe that,” Bruce said softly. “Was it my fault my father called me a monster and murdered my mother right in front of me?”_

_”No!”_

_”Then why is it yours?”_

_It hurt how Steve had barely paused. “Because I’m nothing! You’re…you’re _Bruce,_ and you’re worth something. I’m not.” _

_“How do you know? Just cause of what he said? You gonna believe one drunk idiot?”_

_”I was useless even before he decided to start reminding me! It’s not hard, Bruce! I shouldn’t be here! I don’t deserve to be and I was a mistake!”_

_Bruce fired back immediately. ”So what? You’re here now, so why not make the best of it? You’re a super solider, you’ve already helped so many people, why kill yourself?”_

_”Because I…! I don’t want it… to…to hurt anymore. And I’m not needed, so what’s the point…?”_

Past-Steve sounded so…. _defeated._ They’d never heard him like that...

 _”There’s other ways to make it not hurt. The point is to be happy, Steve. Laughing with Bucky? Meeting Peggy? The team joking around? That’s the point,” past-Bruce said confidently. “I had to learn that too. I tried to put a bullet in my mouth, and the Other Guy spit it out. I didn’t have to do anything. I could’ve let myself rot in a hole for the rest of my life. You know what I did? I got my shit together and decided to make a difference while I’m here instead of giving up.” Bruce sounded a tad angry, now._

_It seemed Steve had considered this while he paused, then asked, “It….wasn’t my fault…? I…” he trailed off._

_“It wasn’t.” Confident. Resolute. No room for doubt._

_The ache and confusion in Steve’s words was hard to listen to. ”….But that means…it was an innocent kid the whole time. Who didn’t deserve…”_

_”That’s right. That’s why child abuse is so horrible― no kid deserves that.”_

They listened to silence again as past-Steve took that in. 

_”…Oh.” It was quiet; small._

_“I know. It sucks to realize. What do you need? When I went through that it wasn’t pretty…”_

_”I-I don’t know. I don’t know.” Steve sounded so lost…_

_”How about food? You haven’t eaten still, I’m guessing, and you need to. Maybe a movie while we eat to distract you?”_

_“Not hungry.”_

_”Okay, how about we… head up for some tea, then? That always calms me.”_

Jarvis spoke up then, “That is the end of the recording, sir.”

Bruce watched as the team took what they’d heard in. Tony looked like he was either going to punch something or scream. Clint and Natasha looked like they’d love to snap someone’s neck. Bruce could guess whose…Thor looked like he was about to start the thunderstorm of the century. They looked to Steve, who was still sleeping peacefully. That someone so kindhearted had to go through that…

After a time, Clint spoke. “I didn’t think it had been…quite that bad.”

”For someone like Steve to still carry it like he does, it would have to be. Steve’s strong,” Natasha said, voice carefully calm. 

Tony rubbed a hand over his face. “I…can’t even…no wonder he thinks lowly of himself if he heard _that_ all the time…God fucking damn it!” He hissed. “That’s not fair…!!”

Steve made a tiny noise, brow twitching again. Bruce shushed the billionaire. “Shh, don’t raise your voice, you’ll wake him!”

Tony gritted his teeth, keeping his voice low but he couldn’t begin to control the anger in it. “What do we do? We can’t change the past…”

”We support him when he needs us,” Thor said confidently. “Steven bears a heavy burden of lies and too many memories of cruelty for one man to shoulder alone. We can be here to help carry his pain, so that he is no longer crushed by it. And we can stop him from wanting to harm himself again to deal with the lasting pain.” 

Tony frowned. “You say that like it’s the easiest thing in the world…” 

”Oh, so you have a better suggestion? Ignore it and drink until it goes away?” Clint sneered. Tony looked a bit taken aback. 

”Damn, Legolas, cool your jets!” Tony shot back. “It’s great in theory but in case you hadn’t noticed the whole panic attack thing, Steve has a bit of a hard time opening up at all!” 

”That doesn’t mean we can’t try!”

”I didn’t say it did! We will try! He’ll learn he can come to us with anything!” 

Bruce tried to dismiss the hissed argument, “Guys, stop fighting, this isn’t solving anything!” 

Thor stood. “Steven won’t learn of our trustworthiness if we try to ignore the problems at hand!” 

No one noticed the now deeper creases on Steve’s face. All he registered was angry tones around him. It was like when his parents had argued, and when he hadn’t been able to protect his ma, and she’d gotten a black eye… 

Tony sat up, frustrated. “That’s not what I _meant!_ We have to make sure he’s comfortable and not going to panic when we talk next, okay?! Jesus, you think I _want_ him to keep suffering in silence or something?!”

”Tony, we can’t always be gentle, like you said, sometimes bluntness is best,” Natasha pointed out. 

Steve’s dream became more vivid, and he _saw his ma trying to ignore how it hurt to smile with a bruised face to try and reassure him and him only ten but yelling at his father about it, only to receive a broken arm and oh God there was a weight on him and he couldn’t move it was just like the first time his dad had beaten him so that he couldn’t fight off any of the “customers” and they were so faceless and cruel and it **hurt** but he couldn’t do anything he was so **weak…!**_

Tony felt the steady breathing below him stutter and the chest heave a little in pain, and he froze, forgetting about arguing and carefully but quickly getting off Steve. He crouched in front of the couch, cursing under his breath when he saw the yellow brows crumpled in pain. 

”Dammit…Steve, Steve, wake up for me,” Tony said, a hand on Steve’s shoulder and shaking gently. Natasha was by Tony’s side in an instant, murmuring soft Russian phrases to help coax Steve out of his nightmare. Clint, Bruce, and Thor were tense, wanting to go help and comfort their Captain but staying away so as not to crowd him.

Steve made a low noise of pain, twitching and then flinching at any touch. His _face hurt from the bully that had punched him but he hadn’t backed down and his father saw the bruise and called him weak and broke his nose for it and his ma yelled and Steve tried to wrestle the beer bottle out of his dad’s hand before he could swing it at Ma―_

_”Steve, wake up!” Who was that? Oh God, was that Bucky? Had he tried to off himself and selfishly left his body for Bucky to find again?? But he just didn’t **care** anymore, Bucky would be fine without him, and he hurt everywhere, his dad had wanted to go out gambling with friends so he’d brought extra “customers” to the house the night before and Steve was just so fed up with it, he didn’t want to feel anything anymore, and he wouldn’t if he was dead, so he went to find the old rope out in their shed, and did his best to tie a noose, and it worked, but choking was painful, and he could see his living room swaying as he started to pass out from lack of air―_

”Wake him up!!” Clint demanded the second Steve started choking and gasping, his hand flying to his throat. Tony held it, stopping Steve from clawing at his neck. Natasha shook him harder, uncaring of the way Steve unconsciously drew away from the touch because he just needed to _wake up_

_―and he fell, and the air stung as he gasped it in, lying on the floor and feeling nothing but useless. He couldn’t even kill himself. Couldn’t even do that right. His dad had been right. He was thirteen then and growing up but he was **still. Useless.**_

_”Steve!”_ Tony shouted, desperation making him abandon gentleness. Steve looked like he was in such pain, and screw what those reporters said, he _hadn’t_ lost his heart in Afghanistan, and it ached to see his Captain so hurt…

Tony was relieved when those baby blues sprang open, but the relief soon turned sour when Steve scrambled up on the couch, his eyes nothing but panic and pain. Steve reared his hand back, fist clenched, and stopped when he realized he was looking at _Tony._

The blonde’s eyes widened, and he scrambled off the couch, away from Tony and Natasha, terrified he’d almost swung. “I-I’m so sorry…!” 

”Cap, no, don’t apologize, it’s okay…” Clint came over, relieved Steve was awake, and laid a hand on his back. Steve immediately flinched, jerking away from the archer. Clint drew his hand back, eyes widening a little. “Oh, shit man, sorr―” 

Natasha moved close to Steve, who was now standing stiffly and trying to get his breathing under control. The Captain backed away. “Don’t…I almost hurt you and Tony…I could’ve _killed_ you…!” He hadn’t planned on holding back with that punch, and with the serum…

Tony pressed his lips together, standing too. “Okay, listen, look, you’re safe, you see?” He gestured around. “Team’s here, you’re here, everything’s fine.”

Steve blinked, looking to the others and realizing he’d simply had another nightmare. He relaxed visibly. “Oh…oh. Sorry. I…did I fall asleep…?”

”Yeah. Had a nasty nightmare,” Bruce answered. Steve took a deep breath, and then let it out. He wasn’t used to being around people after waking like this, but this hadn’t been one of his worst nightmares, so he could…he could handle it. 

”Okay. Okay. I’m fine. Sorr―”

”Stop apologizing!” Tony said, a little angry and a lot worried. He was right in front of Steve now, heedless of almost being decked by a super solider. He knew Steve wouldn’t hurt him. “You did nothing wrong! Okay? It’s fine. Just…calm down for us, yeah?”

Steve blinked. He flinched again when Tony laid his hand on his shoulder, but the billionaire didn’t draw back, and the next thing Steve knew his face was buried next to the smell of spice and motor oil and Tony was hugging him…?? 

The tension bled out of him almost instantly, and Steve squeezed back. Tony’s beard scratched at his own smooth cheek, and it was…it was nice. Somewhere in the back of Tony’s mind he realized Steve was almost certainly touch-starved. Hmph…more excuse to tease him then! 

Tony pulled away after a long minute, and Steve meets his eye. “I…thank you. For. For waking me up and…stuff,” Steve said, looking to the others as well. He stepped away from Tony again, towards the bedrooms. “I’m just gonna go back to bed, I’ll see you all tomo―”

”Ohhh no. No no, you’re coming right back to the couch,” Tony said, grabbing Steve’s arm and dragging him back. The blonde was tense now, Tony having grabbed the arm that now bore scars, but went back to the couch nonetheless. Once everyone was sitting again Steve blinked. 

”…What do you all want? Is something wrong?” Steve asked, confused and growing concerned. He needed to take care of his team, regardless of his own state! “Are you all okay? Has something happe―”

”Shut up for a second,” Natasha said, firm yet gentle and not mean. Steve clamped his lips shut, watching the redhead; waiting. 

It was Thor that spoke for the team, deciding he’d seen enough of Steve so upset. “Steven, we listened to the man in the walls’ recording of your and our green friend’s conversation. And then, your nightmare…” the god got up and squeezed between Natasha and Steve on the couch. When he wrapped an experimental arm around Steve’s shoulders, the Captain flinched like he’d feared he would. “…and now you flinch at our very touch. We will never hurt you, Steven.” 

Steve frowned, and he did relax under Thor’s arm, he simply needed a moment to get used to the non-violent contact, was all…”I know you won’t…I don’t mean to…” Steve sighed. “What’s your point? What do you want?” 

”You to be open with us so we can help you shoulder your shit,” Clint said bluntly. Bruce quirked a small smile, but nodded. 

”Pretty much…you can’t do this alone, Steve, and that’s okay. But you have to help us help you,” the scientist said, all gentle words and friendly eyes. 

Steve was still frowning. “I…what do you want me to say? I don’t…care about…” he trailed off. The haze was heavy. He could barely think. The fuck did they want from him? “I don’t care about what you know. I don’t see how me telling you about how much my dad sucked will help, though.” 

”It will lighten the burden you carry,” Thor said easily. Steve gave him a disbelieving look. 

”Fine. For now then, before we let you go to bed, tell us about your first suicide attempt,” Natasha said, to-the-point as always. 

Steve’s eyes widened. “Wha…why?? What on earth will that accomplish?!”

”Same thing. Lightening your burden and all that jazz. Now spill. We don’t want to force you to talk but you need prompting to share, so here we are,” Tony said, gesturing to the team all sitting there talking. 

Steve sighed again, leaning back on the couch― nope, Thor tugged him to lean on his broad chest, his arm still around Steve’s shoulders. The Captain squirmed a little at first, not quite knowing how he felt about… _cuddling_ with his teammate. But…Thor was warm…and no one was hurting him here for showing any weakness…maybe it was okay…

”Don’t go to sleep, Steve!” Clint chastened, laughing. Steve jumped a little, waking up. He’d started to drift off again. 

”Ah, sorry…um…” What did it matter? They knew so much already, it didn’t make a difference…if it would get them off his back so he could _sleep…_ he was so tired…

”Buck broke the radio. I told him it was fine and took the blame. Dad wasn’t happy, Ma wasn’t home. No one to stop ‘im from…” he frowned. “I don’t…actually remember what he did…huh. Weird.”

The team looked pained. They were assuming the worst….but Clint frowned, seeing through the lie. “You do remember. Spill.”

Steve shrugged and continued, giving the short version. “Whatever…’m not lyin’ though. Don’t remember. I just remember I hit the counter and broke the corner off it with my head. I remember him leavin’…yelling as he left…and the phone was on the table above me, and I knew I needed to call Buck back over. Or 911. Because I couldn’t breathe. Not asthma, but I could taste blood and my head felt really light and weird. He’d punctured my lung ‘cause he broke my ribs. Concussion too.” 

”…I didn’t want to get up. I didn’t see a point. So I stayed there. Woke up in the hospital. Buck had forgotten his ball we were playin’ with…that was how he found out about dad hittin’ me.” 

Steve stopped, but Natasha wasn’t satisfied with the lack of detail. “You need to explain why you stayed there. For us and for you.” 

The blonde frowned. “Innit obvious? Didn’t want to wake up.”

Tony set his jaw. _”Why?_ You’re…a good person. You don’t give up, or back down, so why…”

”You are not one to yield, Steven, why did you then?” Thor inquired. Steve hummed. Thor’s voice was deep and rumbled through him. It was comforting….and reminded him a bit of the bass form the rave… 

”Don’t fall asleep, Cap!” 

Steve blinked his eyes open again. “Mm? Oh, it was jus’…didn’t want to anymore.”

”Didn’t want to what?” Bruce asked gently. 

Steve was quiet for a moment. “Fight. Or hurt. Live. Didn’t wanna. Was tired of it all. Tired right now, lemme go to sleep now?” He mumbled. He was exhausted, and even though he didn’t quite understand why, he didn’t care. He just wanted to sleep and not have to worry about anything for a little while. 

With his eyes already falling shut again, Steve didn’t notice the pained and saddened faces of his teammates. “Steve… you don’t have to fight so hard anymore. Not by yourself. I had Pepper and Rohdney, and you have all of us and them too, and Sam. We can help you with this, just…you have to promise to _talk_ to us, when you’re upset or hurting or want to relapse. We need to know so we can help. When a memory is overwhelming you, _tell_ one of us.” 

”Surprisingly, for once, Stark is right,” Natasha said, throwing Tony a teaisng smirk. The billionaire gave her a mock-offended look. “You have to tell us at least one thing a day, for starters. One memory.” 

Steve frowned, and stood up, rubbing his eyes. “Fine. Whatever. I don’t care.” He wanted to stay with his team, but surely they didn’t want him there. So he’d do best to just go back to his room and sleep…

”Steve.” 

The Captain paused at the sound of Bruce’s voice, halfway into the hallway. He rose one yellow brow in question. The scientist continued, “If you have a nightmare, or just want…well, anything, don’t hesitate to come to one of us, okay? It’s not a bother at all.” 

…Surely Bruce was lying. All Steve was was a bother, always had been… 

”Um…okay. Sure. Thank…thank you. All of you. For…” Steve glanced away. “Well. Your thing for today then: you guys are the only reason I’d glad I wasn’t left in the ice, even though I shoulda’ been.” As his face turned a bit pink in embarrassment, his team’s eyes widened a little at his admission. “Er, jeez, my filter goes away when I’m tired apparently!” 

Before Steve could duck away from the conversation, Clint spoke up. “You’re welcome, anytime. And no, you shouldn’t have been, please don’t think that. I’m glad our stupid antics make you happy, too.”

Steve looked back to him, and smiled. It was the first time he’d smiled so…openly, in days. Maybe even weeks. Even Tony felt his chest warm at the sight. They could fix this…! They could! “Yeah. Night guys,” and with that the blonde was gone, back to his room. He got into his bed and nestled himself under the covers, falling asleep quickly. He slept soundly for the first time in a while, knowing that his team was there for him, at least until they realized how hopeless he was and gave up on him. He could enjoy this while it lasted, Steve supposed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, there’s grammatical errors in the texts. That’s because people don’t text in proper writing format and stuff. The errors pain me xD but oh well. Also, the neurology Steve was talking? Some of that is true. The functions of the neurotransmitters and such is accurate, but I kind of extrapolated after a point x) 
> 
> All credit to Aero Chord for the amazing song!! (Song is: Break Them (feat. Anna Yvette)- Areo Chord)


	7. A New Kind of Bond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve is urged to share a bit more, and the team is realizing they want more from each other. Tony is the first to take that step; no surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the wait. School has me very busy, and writer's block plus depression isn't a good combination when it comes to getting writing done XD 
> 
> Rest assured, I will definitely not abandon this story! It may take me a while to update sometimes though. 
> 
> I originally wanted this to turn from stony to stucky, but I've decided to make it an ot6, and maybe eventually include Wanda, Vision, and Bucky. Maybe even Pepper and Sam too! 
> 
> And thank you so much for all the reviews!!! It makes me so happy people are loving this story!! 
> 
>  
> 
> Much love,
> 
> J

Tony sighed heavily as he let himself fall face first onto the couch in the common room. Bruce glanced up briefly from his book, but went straight back to reading even as he asked, “Stayed up all night working again?”

The billionaire merely groaned into the cushion, much to Clint’s amusement. The archer was watching some show about a vigilante with a bow and arrow, commenting on how amateur the guy was. “Poor Stark, all worn out!”

Natasha came in with Thor and a giant plate of nachos and dips as a snack. The redhead saw Tony had taken both her and Thor’s spot by lying down, so she sat on the brunette’s back while Thor moved Tony’s legs up and sat under them, letting them rest back on his lap. Tony grunted and turned his face out from being smothered in the couch. “Hey! I’m not the couch!” 

”Isn’t that exactly what you did to Cap before, Tony?” Bruce asked blandly, taking some chips and highlighting another passage in his book. 

”…Well. Yes, but still!” 

”You are a child,” Clint laughed, his mouth already full of nachos.

Natasha shifted and sighed dramatically. “You’re not as comfortable as Steve, either, Stark.” 

Tony mock-gasped. “I am offended! I work out from time to time, you know! I may not be able to bench press a car, but―!” 

”Oh my God, Tony, you are literally whining!” Clint cackled. Thor grinned.

“The man of Iron is envious of the good Captain’s physique, it would seem!”

Tony squawked in indignation. “Am _not!_ Ah, hell, who am I kidding, who wouldn’t be?? The man’s the pinnacle of human perfection!”

The five laughed and bickered for another few minutes, until Jarvis interrupted them. “Captain Rogers is asking to be patched through to Sir, if you would excuse my interruption.”

”Put him through, J,” Tony said, still smiling. 

”…Tony? Jarvis, did you―” 

”The others are listening to you as we speak, Captain.”

”Oh, sorry.” Steve’s voice seemed…hesitant? Bruce leaned forward a bit, and Nat looked ready to sprint to the Captain if need be. There hadn’t been any incidents in the past week or so since the last escapade, but…

”Yeah, Cap, here with the others. What’s up? You alright?”

Steve chuckled nervously. “Oh, yeah, um…fine…” A shift and sparking noise crackled over the speakers, and Clint frowned. Steve continued, “Soooo, about that really expensive sparring bot...the new red one?” 

Tony raised a brow. “Yeah. Did you try it out? I built it to withstand you and Iron man and maybe even Thor, how’d you like it?” 

”……I kinda broke it…”

Thro roared with laughter. “Steven has proved himself a man of great strength once more!” 

The Captain chuckled over the speaker. “I guess so! I think I’m stuck though…I punched through it by accident, through one of the seams. My arm is stuck on…something that feels really smooth is digging into my palm, anyway. Can I open this thing somehow to get out? I don’t want to break it…er, well, any more, that is.” 

Clint was trying to hold back his laughter. “Oh God, Jarvis, please give us a visual of this!”

”Jarvis, do _not _turn on the camera!” Steve protested. The others could hear the smile in his voice. Bruce chuckled and shook his head, eating more nachos. His team was something else…__

Tony was snickering, having turned his face back into the couch to muffle it. He turned back to poke fun, “I can’t believe you broke it, Steve! That was eight hundred thousand dollar grade steel!!” 

Steve gasped a little. “I’m sorry!! I didn’t mean to!” 

”Chill, Capsicle, if you punched through a seam it was my fault, I probably didn’t weld the carbon micro―” 

”Tell the man how to free his hand from your contraption before you start rambling science stuff, Stark!” Natasha scolded gently. Like the mature man he was, Tony silently mocked her words while making a face. Clint fell into a “coughing fit”. 

”Well, it’s already broken, so just rip it in half if you can’t pull your hand straight out. You won’t be able to open it if your hand is inside it…The weak points should make that fairly easy, and I’ll fix it on the next model,” Tony said, still chuckling. 

Steve sighed and the Avengers heard the screech of metal bending, a quiet curse, a loud splintering and sparking noise, a cry of pain, then a crash. 

”Um. Steve. You good??” Bruce asked worriedly. 

”Yeah, yeah, it kinda tried to start moving on me again and shocked me, sliced my arm open… there’s some sharp parts in there. You want me to like…put this anywhere…?” 

Tony scoffed. “You’re so polite it’s nauseating. No, leave it for now, the cleaning bots will bring it to my lab. Come up here so Bruce can patch you up.”

”Alright. No, that’s fine, it’s not that bad at all. Thanks Tony, sorry about the robot again!”

Before anyone could object Steve cut the transmission, presumably going back to working out. Clint sighed. “Stubborn asshole. That’s what we have as a Captain.”

”…I was about to call him the little brother of the group, but he’s also the oldest. Well, not counting Thor.” Tony said. “That’s weird…” 

Bruce spoke up, “Anyone else concerned about the fact he’s been restless the past week without his blades, just broke a bot Tony designed, and sliced himself on it? ‘Cause I’m a tad concerned.” 

Thor frowned. “Restless…? Yes, he has been…But he has also been sharing small memories with us daily just as we asked, and hasn’t seemed to withdraw from us too badly. Surely this is good news?” 

”He’s been hiding how much he’s struggling from us,” Natasha said simply. “Habits are hard to break. Self-harm is as hard to stop as a drug, and when you’ve been doing it often for nearly twelve years…? Yeah, he’s definitely struggling. But he _is_ making progress, which is good.”

Thor nodded thoughtfully, and Clint shrugged. “I think he’s been better. Not good, but better. Seems to have been sleeping alright too.” 

Jarvis helpfully piqued up, “Captain Rogers has indeed been sleeping his normal amount of time each night. It is not long enough for a man of his age, but this may be due to the serum.” 

Tony looked curious. “How much sleep is average for him with no nightmares?” 

”Five to six hours, sir. With nightmares and the symptoms of depression he’s been showing, I have calculated the average was one to two hours at a time, but for a total of about ten hours.” 

”Damn. Okay, so what your saying is we can gauge how bad he is based on just how fucked up his sleep schedule is and how tired he seems,” Clint surmised. 

”That would be an accurate assumption, yes,” Jarvis answered. Bruce sighed. “I just wish there was something more we could do…maybe make it two memories a day? He hasn’t been sharing bad ones, which he probably needs to get off his shoulders…” 

”That could work,” Natasha and Thor both said at the same time.

”….I used to use a simple scale, when my therapist or Pepper or Rodney asked how I was doing. One though ten. One being suicidal and in need of immediate help, and ten being completely happy and satisfied with life. We could have Steve use that. Could be useful,” Tony said. He usually wasn’t very open with things like this, but….if it would help Steve, it was worth being more open with his family. 

He started at his own thought. Family?!?!?! Well…..yeah, they kind of were a family, more so than a simple team…But that was also a bit odd, considering he’d tried to seduce all of them at one point or another, (except for Steve, now that Tony thought about it. He should really remedy that now that he knew Mr. Heterosexual wasn’t as straight as he’d seemed). Maybe they were just close friends. Yeah, that sounded better than family, to Tony’s conscience. 

Oblivious to Tony’s little epiphany, Bruce nodded. “That’s actually really useful. I’ll let him know about it once he’s―”

Steve walked around the corner right as Bruce was saying that, making the scientist pause in speaking. The blonde’s hair was wet with sweat, and he was still breathing a little hard. 

Before Steve could head to his room for a shower, Clint stopped him. “Steve, speak of the devil! C’mere, we have a couple ideas.” 

The Captain paused halfway down the hallway and walked back. “It should wait till I’ve had a shower. Pretty sure you guys don’t wanna smell me.” He noticed Tony under Natasha and smiled wider than he usually did, much to the delight of his teammates.

”Why not use the cleansing cubicles in the exercising area?” Thor inquired. Steve huffed a small laugh. 

”Well, I forgot spare clothes.” 

”Aww, c’mon Cap, I wouldn’t mind seeing you walk around in a towel~” Tony cooed. Steve turned an impressively pretty shade of pink in record time. 

”I―er―but―I mean―isn’t that kind of―inappropriate???” The Captain stammered. 

”I think the only person Tony hasn’t flirted with was, like, the president. So no, not really,” Clint chuckled. Steve shook his head, trying to fight down the blush, and didn’t think before saying, “Well, maybe another time then, Tone.”

The blonde paused, as did the others. Steve was redder immediately. “S-sorry! I don’t know why I―! Aghhh.” He buried his face in his hands. 

”Well! Who knew Steve was a natural flirt?” Nat said, amused. Steve waved it off. “We’re not talking about this again. Ever. We’re just not. I’ll just be right back, never mind it…” 

But as he waved the towel he’d been holding draped over his arm slipped, and Bruce took notice of the red covering Steve’s arm. He walked over to him, grabbing his arm to inspect it. The cut ran diagonally across Steve’s forearm, and was still bleeding sluggishly. It wasn’t shallow, either. “Steve, this is a pretty bad cut! And are these burns on it??” 

The others’ brows drew, concerned. Steve merely raised one of his. “Well, it was steel. I’m still only human. And yeah. Electricity and a lot of moving parts will do that to you,” he said dryly, as if that were obvious. Which it was, Steve thought.

Bruce looked up at the Captain and gave him a serious look. “This was a full accident, right?” He asked sternly. Steve got a little tense, but nodded. Of course…of course they’d suspect that…

”I…won’t lie, I wasn’t too careful, but it wasn’t on purpose, no.” Steve said, voice honest and careful. He’d been trying hard to shove any urges to relapse away for the past week or so, and he’d been doing a pretty good job, he thought.

He waited while the others accessed whether or not he was lying. The Captain soon got fed up with that. “Good? Okay, great. I’m gonna go take that shower now,” Steve said decisively. He moved away and waved off the protest he could see about to come from Clint’s open mouth, “I’m not a kid, I’ll be fine, jeez…” and with that the bleeding Captain disappeared down the hall and into his room. Tony made a frustrated noise once he heard Steve’s bedroom door shut. 

”Well, that didn’t go great. But I don’t think he was lying,” Tony muttered. Still on top of him, Natasha nodded. “I’ve learned how to read him better lately. He wasn’t lying.”

It was about ten minutes later when Steve came back in, now smelling fresh, in clean clothes, and with his arm cleaned and wrapped so he didn’t get nagged about not taking care of it. Steve brushed his damp hair out of his face and headed into the kitchen, speaking through the cutout in the wall above the bar counter. ”Alright, what did you want?” He asked as he started looking for food and debating what to cook everyone for dinner. 

”Nice shirt, Steve,” Clint chuckled. The Captain gave a tiny smile at that. His T-shirt had Hawkeye’s arrow hitting the center of the Avengers’ symbol on it. Thor, however, didn’t waste any time answering the Captain’s question as Steve made himself a sandwich. 

”We wish you to share two memories a day with us now, and preferably not only good ones. You have been making admirable progress over the past week, and we wish to help ease your burden even more! Especially since you didn’t want to go to the mind-healer! And the Man of Iron has a scale for us to use to aid you!” 

In the middle of eating his lunch, Steve was getting things out for lasagna and rolls and salad. “Oh…um…I don’t think…” he trailed off, not knowing how to respond. Steve paused, leaning on the counter for a moment and thinking. 

Clint watched him frown and could understand why Steve was a bit exasperated. “We know we’re kind of pestering you, but we really think it could help.”

After another moment of silence, Steve relented. It wasn’t like it really mattered anyways. His team already knew more than he’d ever wanted them to. They hadn’t given up on him yet….well, they would eventually. So Steve supposed it really didn’t matter if they wanted to speed that up a bit. He would’ve liked to enjoy their company a little longer though…they were all so nice….but so be it. “Fine. If it’ll make you guys feel better…what scale are you talking about, though?”

”One to ten. One is that you’re suicidal and need immediate help, ten is that you’re completely happy with life,” Tony explained. “For example, right now I’m about a seven. Maybe an eight, if this woman would get off my back,” he shot a grin up at Natasha, who gave him a look. 

“You wanna try me, Stark?” 

Tony quickly back tracked with a hasty, “Never mind, no, it’s very comfy here!”

”Payback’s a bitch, Tony. Or so I’ve heard,” Steve said, chuckling a little as he tried to find noodles. “That isn’t actually your worst idea either, I’m impressed.” 

As the Captain started to put the lasagna together, Bruce came in and helped him by setting the table and getting out all the salad ingredients they all liked. “What’s your number right now, Steve?”

Steve hummed. “….four?” He paused for a moment, not used to talking about the haze but figuring he owed his team about a hundred explanations at this point. “Fog’s just gray…Maybe five?”

”Oh, I should add that with this scale, you absolutely can never lie or sugar coat it,” tony said, voice very serious for once. Steve bit his lip and nibbled on it. 

“…four.” He decided on. 

”Can we help at all?” Natasha asked. Steve shrugged. 

“You help all the time. You’re the only reas―” He cut himself off, not continuing. But Bruce wasn’t having it. 

”No, you’re finishing that sentence, Steve.” 

Steve sighed heavily, and finished after a beat. “….you guys are the only reason I’m not dead right now, so… I’m pretty sure you’ve already done enough. Thank you though,” he said quietly, mixing his homemade sauce together. 

The others took a moment to take that in. “…We can still help though,” Tony said, also quiet even though that was unusual for him. Steve glanced to him as he was putting together four pans of lasagna, (a super solider plus a god could eat a lot, not to mention the other four people to feed). 

The Captain gave another one of those small but treasured smiles. “You already are. Listenin’ to you all banter and such is…oddly nice. Just being around you guys is nice. Well, usually,” he gave a small laugh. This of course spurred Tony right into action as Steve got everything cooking. 

”Oh please! When am I _not_ awesome to be around?!” 

”Try ninety percent of the time,” Clint said, deadpan. Tony made a hurt noise. “You’re cruel, Barton. Cruel. No wonder Stevie likes me best!”

”Indeed not! Steven loves us all equally!!” Thor protested. “…But no one else challenges him such as I, so of course, of he had to pick a favorite, it would be I.”

”Keep arguing, boys. _I’m_ pretty sure he likes a break from all this testosterone from time to time,” Natasha said, smirking. 

”You all are actually children. I’m pretty sure Steve is the most mature here, and he’s the youngest!” Bruce exclaimed. 

Tony and Clint were cut off as they began to go at it again, by a sound they hadn’t heard in….weeks. Maybe even months. Steve laughed, loud and honest. Stunned by how nice it sounded, Tony realized they’d never heard a laugh quite so…carefree, out of their Captain. Tony smiled genuinely and widely as he noticed this, seeing how wide Steve’s smile was. It made crinkles appear around those baby blues, which were brighter than Tony could recall them being since he and Steve had gotten into each other’s faces while arguing. Such an easy, wide smile from Steve was a rare sight nowadays, but a very welcome one. Judging from the other’s small or wide grins as they watched Steve laugh, they felt the same. All of them in that moment were determined to get that stunning sound out of their Captain more often.

”I don’t think I can pick a favorite. You’re all…” Steve shook his head, still smiling. “Well, then again, even as Captain, I guess I can’t help but have a favorite. You know who you are.” And he _winked_. Actually _winked!_ He was just egging them on! Thor’s laughter was loud enough to almost block out the rest of theirs, but the smiles were enough to have everyone’s cheeks hurting from how wide they were. After putting their dinner in the oven Steve headed into the living room and plopped on the beanbag to watch TV with the others, Tony could have sworn the blonde gave him another wink. 

They were soon laughing at the movie _The Incredibles_ while they ate dinner. Steve was taking the IQ test Bruce had requested of him on his laptop, and once he finished he was so surprised by the score he shut the computer and decided to wait until tomorrow to let Bruce know he’d even taken it. After that, per Clint’s insistence, they put on another animated movie. As he stood and stretched, Steve didn’t hear what the title of it was, because right when Clint started explaining the plot Tony decided to yank the blonde out of the way of Thor. The god often tried to run through small areas, more used to Asgard’s grand rooms. So when he tried to quickly scutter through all the team’s legs hanging off couches and the beanbag and drinks on the floor, he’d stumbled. Steve fell onto Tony’s chest when he was yanked with an “ummph!” and ended up turning a rosy pink when he opened his eyes to see a pretty blue in front of him through Tony’s white shirt. 

The others pretended not to notice as Steve and Tony froze at their position, staring at each other. The brunette didn’t move for a moment, his brain going a thousand miles an hour. Unsure why or how he decided to do so, Tony shifted to get comfortable laying down, and let Steve nestle on his chest. One leg was between Tony’s, and his head was resting below the billionaire’s collar. As the movie started, the two gradually relaxed despite the initial oddness of their situation. Tony hardly realized it when their breathing synced. He also pointedly didn’t pay much mind to the fact his hand was stroking in little patterns along a muscled back. 

Steve wasn’t sure if he should move or not. Surely, this was inappropriate? Surely, he should apologize and just sit next to Tony…but he was warm…and Steve had grown fond of the man. He was similar to yet very different form Howard at the same time. At first he couldn’t stand Tony, but he gradually came to see the arrogance and rashness as a cover for a kind man who was too hard on himself. So once he relaxed, Steve sighed, content. The glow of the reactor was comforting. It showed Tony was alive and well…just like the steady beating he could hear where his ear rested…it must be his imagination that Tony’s heartbeat sounded a bit fast. The blonde was quickly falling asleep to the soothing rhythm, and thus didn’t think to stop himself from nuzzling into Tony, loving the warmth the man radiated. The contact was amazing, too…it was so nice to just…touch another person. No violence involved, just…this. Steve didn’t know it, but Tony was touch-starved too. Plus, how could one pass up having a cuddly Captain America in their arms?

The other four Avengers were stealing fond glances at the pair, not wanting to outright stare. But it was a nice sight, the two taking comfort in each other like that. They knew the two were attracted to each other. Hell, with the sexual tension and teasing, how could they not notice?? But they hadn’t expected either of them to do anything about it…well, maybe Tony would, but not now, when everyone was trying to help Steve get better…

The movie played on until late, and by the time the Avengers were standing and heading back to their own floors to sleep, Tony and Steve were fast asleep. Clint motioned to them, and Natasha immediately took a couple pictures. Unable to resist, she posted them on the Avengers’ twitter page. Tony and Steve looked utterly at peace like that, and no one had the heart to wake them. Both of them needed the rest, too. Shoving away their slight jealousy at the two’s closeness, they left the two on the couch and went back to their own floors. Each of the team was harboring the want for…more, with each other. But they’d been more focused on helping Steve lately. Tony wrapped an arm around Steve’s waist in his sleep as Jarvis turned the lights off. The blonde fisted one hand in Tony’s shirt, gripping randomly in his sleep. 

Both of them slept better than they had in weeks. 

* * * * * *

Tony made a soft noise as he woke up, wondering why he felt so heavy. It smelled nice though…lightly musky…like Steve. 

……Wait.

Tony went a little tense when he realized the yellow tangle in front of him was indeed Steve’s hair, and Steve’s head was just above the reactor, and oh God, he still didn’t like people getting near it, but this was Steve, it was different, but the blonde’s leg was between Tony’s and he was so warm, and it was _Steve_ and he was so relaxed sleeping like this, how could he be so relaxed on top of Tony like this, holy crap, and oh no, Tony was going to make this awkward if Steve woke up if he kept up this train of thought…!

The billionaire tried to think of doombots and Loki, or anything other than the warm body on top of him. But then he heard the single _cutest_ “waking up” noise from the head on his chest, and looked down to see Steve blinking and yawning as he woke up. 

”Morning.” Well, at least he managed to sound calmer than he felt… Captain motherfucking _America_ had fallen asleep on him!! What had his life come to?! (Something amazing, that was for sure.) 

Steve blinked, rubbing his eye. He shifted a little to look up at Tony, and gave him a lazy little smile. “Morning…sorry I feel asleep on you, you coulda’ moved me.” 

”I fell asleep too, so it’s fine. You’re a good blanket, Cap.” Steve’s bed head should be illegal….hmm…Tony bet it would look better as sex hair, if he ran his hands through it _just_ so…

_I wonder if Steve would gasp if I tugged it…no, no, stop thinking about that!!_

Steve rumbled with a chuckle and shifted again, tempted to lie back down but knowing he should let Tony up. “Still, I’m probably heavy…” The blonde sat up and off of Tony, who sat up and stretched. 

”Yeah, all that muscle,” Tony jibed, poking one large bicep. Steve huffed and smiled a little, watching Tony get up and head to the bathroom. The blonde did so himself, heading to his own and washing up. It was odd…it felt totally normal to have woken in Tony’s arms like that…and it felt right. It was nice. 

Steve headed back out to find Tony sprawled back on the couch, and leaned over the back of it. “Really, Tone? You shou―”

”Hush, I want my super soldier blanket back, it’s cold!” Tony complained, yanking Steve over the back of the couch. Steve was already leaning far, so he let out a surprised noise as he flipped and tried not to crush his friend. 

But no, it was fine. Soon Tony had yanked and squirmed until Steve was half on top of him again. The blonde blinked rapidly. “Um. But. Productivity?” 

”Meh.”

”….Aaaaaaalright then.” 

They stayed like that for a few long minutes, and Steve found it was…relaxing. Really simple and…comforting, being with someone like this. He shifted. “Ah?” He brushed something hard and blinked down at Tony, who was… _blushing?_

”Sorry Steve, it’s just um, well, just don’t worry about it…” Tony tried to brush it off, but stopped when he saw Steve’s expression. He seemed surprised, but definitely not disgusted. 

”It’s…okay. Is it um.” Oh God this was embarrassing, but Steve let his mouth run before he chickened out of asking. He really wanted to know if Tony… “ Is it just.. a thing or like…because…?” His cheeks were warming again, Steve could feel it. He watched the pretty brown so close to him get swallowed by Tony’s pupil. 

”God, you’re too unreal.” Steve didn’t have time to respond to that before he felt warm lips against his own, and a beard scratching gently against his chin. Steve gasped a little, tasting the spearmint toothpaste he wasn’t a fan of but he really didn’t give a damn right now, because Tony was _kissing him??_

Tony pulled away from the minty, sweet but firm kiss, licking his lips. “Mm…good enough answer for you?”

Steve’s eyes flicked to the pink tongue that appeared between Tony’s lips, and he gaped a little. “Uh― but― you― but― I….you…??”

Tony had never been good with words. And in retrospect he really should have talked to Steve about this. He didn’t want to push the blonde into anything…but Steve was all flustered and doing that stammering thing again, hovering above him, and how could he be blamed for leaning up to kiss the man again?? 

This time Steve gave in after a moment, sighing and pressing back as Tony’s hand wound its way around the back of his neck, pulling him down a little and titling his head to the best angle. The blonde let Tony in immediately after he felt warm wetness touch his lips, and then he couldn’t stop the soft groan that escaped him. Tony’s tongue was _devious…_

Steve lost track of time. Tony’s tongue was so soft it wasn’t even fair, and he hadn’t felt this in months…well, years, technically. But it was months to Steve. Too long either way. He felt the brunette beneath him shift, and made another small noise into the kiss when he felt Tony’s thigh brush up against his erection. Steve smiled a little into the kiss, moving his own thigh to grind gently against the hardness he’d felt earlier. He loved the way Tony’s gasp got lost in their kiss, and it only made him kiss Tony harder, finally moving down to kiss wetly on Tony’s jaw, then up to his ear and biting just below it. Tony seemed a tad out of breath. “Damn, Cap, where’d you lean to kiss like that?”

Steve sucked lightly at his pulse point before pulling away, loving how red Tony’s lips were. “Mmm…really wanna know?” He teased, nervousness fluttering in his chest. Tony’s eyes darkened at the sight of the red on and around Steve’s lips from rough kisses and beard burn. 

”Yeah, yeah.”

Steve smirked a little. “Bucky.” 

Tony gaped. “...no _way!_ You…!” He laughed, head titling back against the pillow behind it. “That’s priceless! The museums got your whole “childhood brothers” thing all wrong, didn’t they??” 

The blonde chuckled. “Well, yeah. Had to keep it a secret back then…but nowadays…I can do this,” and then Steve was biting down on Tony’s neck, not very gently, making the brunette’s back arch with a pretty little groan. He then kissed the skin apologetically and sucked a nice hickey there. Now Tony would have his mark on him…the thought made Steve’s cock twitch. 

Tony yanked at his hair, pulling Steve into another bruising kiss. This time when they pulled away they were both out of breath. “Should probably ask, cause I’m nice and all, but you good with this? Cause I really wanna fuck you, but asking is nice, right? Isn’t that what normal people do to communicate? Ask each other things? But wait, do you actually bottom? Cause if not that’s cool. But with that ass, it would really be a shame and all.” Tony rambled, hands already straying down to their jeans buttons. Steve sucked in a breath at the mental image that presented him with, and nodded, yanking and accidentally sending two buttons flying somewhere across the living room. Tony groaned at his impatience, and pushed at the blonde’s shoulders gently. “Bedroom. Mine. Now. Lube. That’s a thing we need. I have some. There. We should―ah!” The brunette refused to admit he yelped as Steve stood and scooped him into his arms, carrying him down the hall into Tony’s bedroom. 

Tony squirmed until Steve set him down, because no matter how much he liked being manhandled, if Steve found all the toys he had stashed with his lube the man might just faint, and Tony wasn’t a somnophiliac. But Steve paused overtop Tony after he set him down. “Tony…should we really…? I mean, it just seems…rash?” The Captain was clearly backpedaling.

The billionaire huffed. “I’ve been known to be rash. I like rash. You’re hot, and I like your face too, it’s a good face. Plus you’re nice. Stupidly nice. Literally everyone has a crush on you, did you know that? Joke’s on them though, I got you fir―”

”Tone!” Steve interrupted. He chuckled a little. “I’m flattered…I think. But a one night stand…I don’t want…it could mess with the team too, our relationship…” He frowned, concerned about that. His frown turned into a soft glare. “And I don’t want to be some prize to brag about.”

But Tony just shook his head. “Friends with benefits? That sounds perfect to me. And the entire team wants you, are you kidding?? Fine, minimal bragging. Clint would’ve been so jealous, damn,,, Can you kiss me again now??” He tried to yank Steve back to his lips, and the blonde let another soft kiss happen, but pulled away to keep it short. 

”Fine…we can try that. And zero bragging. Zero,” Steve grumbled, unsure how to respond to the information about his team. He didn’t really believe Tony; that any of them looked at him like that. Tony laughed and nodded. 

”Fiiiiiine,”Tony drawled. He licked his lips as he nudged Steve out of the way then went to his closet. “Strip. Want you naked by the time I’m back to the bed.” He raised a brow when Steve obeyed instantly. Oh…? He might have to explore that a bit more… 

Tony stripped his own clothes off as he came back to the bed with blueberry scented and flavored lube and a condom. Steve licked his lips as he saw Tony’s hard cock, surprised by how big it was. Pleasantly surprised. Tony was thick too, fuck… Tony was definitely happy with Steve’s size as well, his eyes darkening at the sight. But he wasn’t at all surprised to find it was even bigger than his own. Serum, after all. His eyes drank in the sight of the Captain laid bare for him on his back, propped on his elbow and looking at Tony hungrily as he crawled back onto the bed and overtop Steve. Tony wasn’t even concerned about his reactor showing. It was _Steve,_ after all. He didn’t stop to think of what that might mean. Tony kissed Steve again, softer this time but still deeply, humming in pleasure as Steve’s hands stroked up then down his sides slowly. 

Their lips parted slowly with a sound that could only be escribed as a “kiss sound”. Steve’s eyes were pleasantly cloudy as he blinked up at Tony. 

The brunette marveled briefly at how gorgeous Steve looked like this. Focused only on how good he felt, the contact, and looking so lustful and pleading…yeah, it was a good look on him, alright. “Mm…I like you like this. Maybe when you’re feeling bad I’ll just distract you with sex, huh?” He chuckled. As he spoke Tony was slicking his fingers and shifting closer to Steve, his thighs shoving the blonde’s apart and keeping them up and spread. 

Steve huffed a laugh even as he wiggled at how exposed he felt. “You’re incorrigible…nnh!”His mouth fell open in a gasp when he felt one cool, slick finger rubbing firm circles on his hole. Steve rocked down, silently begging. He couldn’t find the words, but his squirming and rock hard cock said it all. 

Tony’s eyes darkened, and he pressed one finger into that pretty pink hole. “Yeah? I think you’re too lucid. That was a big word, want you only able to say my name or “please, sir”…how’s that sound, Steve?” 

The Captain bit his lip hard enough to turn it white, nodding hard. “Yeah, yeah, want...” he choked on his words when Tony twisted his finger and added a second one, thrusting them slowly. “Want me to…call you sir?” He asked. Like Oliver…did Tony know about all that SBDM stuff too, Steve wondered? He was quickly distracted form his ponderings when Tony kept touching him, sighing in pleasure. 

Tony hummed, stroking his own cock for a bit of relief. Having Captain America beneath him like this…his teenage self would be so proud.

”Actually, I think I want to hear you say “master”. Want to hear Captain America call me that, mm, yeah,” Tony purred. Then he leaned down and took Steve’s nipple in his mouth, sucking hard. At the same time he curled his fingers, shoving them in none-too-gently. Steve reacted beautifully, back arching prettily and an utterly obscene sound falling from his lips. His nails dug into Tony’s hip and arm, where he was gripping desperately for some sort of grounding. Tony let go of his nipple with a wet pop. 

”Who would’ve guessed you could be so needy, Captain?” Steve groaned at the husky voice. Somehow Tony knew just what made him shiver and quake, it was driving him mad already… “M…master…” he breathed, trying out the word. He was surprised to find it made his cock start leaking. 

Tony liked it a lot too, apparently. The brunette bit down around Steve’s areola, leaving teeth marks as he groaned into the skin. Steve moaned loudly, his cock twitching hard. “Auh! Tony! God…!” 

Tony smirked evilly, pulling back and scissoring his fingers, watching Steve stretch around them. He’d always been a talker, and he never shut up in the bedroom either. But Steve definitely seemed to like it. “Mm, yeah, you sound much better like this than giving orders…and look how hard you are from a bit of dirty talk.” Tony said, running one finger up Steve’s cock and earning an unsteady breath. “I can read you like a book, _Captain._ What you need is to have that responsibility taken away, isn’t it? And be reminded of how submissive you’re being even when all you’re doing is grinding down on my fingers, so desperate for me…who would’ve guessed Captain America was really just a slut, mm?”

Steve’s face was dark red, and his head was turned to one side, trying in vain to hide his flush. He let out an obscene noise when Tony stretched him with a third finger, and when he realized just how embarrassing that noise had been his blush traveled down his neck and chest a little. “Nnh…don’t call me…slut, please,” He asked softly. Tony hummed in approval and leaned down, kissing Steve deeply and slowly as he stretched him more. The blonde kissed him back with a simmering heat, wondering in the back of his mind why they hadn’t done this sooner. Tony was attentive and caring and so good, taking cues Steve didn’t even realize he was giving. He reached down and took Tony’s cock in hand, stroking him gently since he didn’t have any lube on his hand, unlike the slick one that was slowly driving him crazy. 

When Tony pulled away Steve wiggled impatiently. “Master, want you, c’mon…” Tony got an even darker look on his face though, and moved down to trace Steve’s abs with his tongue, earning sighs of pleasure. He moved down until he was suckling lightly on Steve’s cockhead, moaning a little at the taste of his pre cum. It was sweet, wow…he wondered if that was from the serum…

But he still wanted to see how Steve would react from this, so no matter how hard he was, Tony was gonna wait. 

”Wanna see you fall apart for me first, Steve,” the brunette breathed lowly, sucking one of the Captain’s balls into his mouth and rolling it on his tongue. Steve’s hips jerked up again, and he groaned helplessly. Tony licked over his other ball and then licked down his perineum, but when he didn’t stop Steve made a surprised squawk. “T-Tone…??” His hand reached down, wanting to touch.

”Keep your hands on the headboard, boy.” And wow, okay, Tony hadn’t really even meant to say that, it had slipped out automatically. But Steve clenched around his fingers at the harsh words, and for a moment Tony was afraid the Captain would break his headboard with how hard he was gripping it. “Oh, you like that too? We’ll have to test what other names you like, but right now my mouth has better things to do.” And with that Tony licked around his fingers, blueberry flavor hitting his tongue. 

”Ahn!” Steve gasped, hips bucking then rocking down. Tony removed two of his fingers so he could hold Steve open with one and lick into the blonde, earning a sharp moan. Tony chased the flavor on his tongue, hooking his finger and smiling as much as he could at the breathless curse from above him. 

Tony kept doing that, pulling his finger out eventually to lick flat over Steve’s soft hole, and then fuck his tongue in and out of it. Steve writhed gently, shaking his head and trying hard not to let go of the headboard. He wanted to be good… “To― auh, fuck, please, I can’t, I…ah…!” He felt so close, but he couldn’t come just from this, no matter how hot it was getting him. 

Tony pulled away briefly, rubbing circles on Steve’s slick hole again, not letting the rocking motions of the blonde’s hips make him slip it inside, keeping the touch teasing. “And how do you ask nicely, hm? If you can’t come just from this pretty hole of yours, you need to ask like a good boy does.” 

The groan he made came from deep in Steve’s chest, and he let his mouth run, too turned on to care much about what he was saying. “Please, master. Let…let me…nnh…please,” Steve breathed, biting his already kiss swollen lip. 

Tony smirked again. “Good boy,” he praised, immediately ducking to suck hard at Steve’s hole. At the same time he reached up and twisted his hand around the head of the Captain’s cock. Steve shouted and choked on his cry as Tony wrung a hard orgasm out of him. The brunette stroked him through it, sucking and licking at his hole at the same time. Steve shot over his own stomach, striping it with white as he tensed and jerked, then relaxed with a soft groan as he came down from his high. Tony gave his ass a couple last kitten licks, and then moved up to suck lightly at his slit, earning a half-pained gasp. 

The billionaire leaned up, licking his lips and admiring his work. Captain America: laid out sweaty, out of breath, his own come streaked on him, ass red and wet, cock spent, (and still big even soft, damn…) trying to catch his breath, and looking up at Tony with adoration. 

Yeah, this was jerk off- material for a while to come, all right. Tony was rather proud of himself for reducing the super soldier to this needy mess. 

”So filthy, aren’t you? But God that was hot, Steve…” Tony complimented, leaning down and grinding his own cock onto Steve’s thigh softly. The blonde rocked his leg up for the brunette and nodded, kissing Tony when he came close enough. He groaned when he tasted the blueberry on Tony’s lips. What a dirty kiss… Tony pulled back and licked his lips. “And such a good boy too, you didn’t move your hands just like I told you to.”

The Captain let out a shaky breath, feeling overwhelmed in the best way. “Tony…ahn!” He jerked and startled when Tony spanked him sharply.

”What was that??” Tony demanded. Steve cursed breathlessly. 

”M…master,” he corrected. He earned three slick, fruity smelling fingers pressing back into his relaxed hole. His hips bucked as Tony thrust his fingers gently, opening him back up now that he was relaxed from coming. Steve kept making little sighs and gasps whenever Tony brushed his sweet spot, and took a hand away from the headboard to run it down Tony’s chest. Right as he brushed one browned nipple Tony sat up enough to grab Steve’s wrist and shove it back up, leaning on it and staring him in the eye. “Bad boy. Did I say you could touch?” 

Steve gasped and licked his lips. “No…but I wanna, wanna touch you. No fair, not lettin’ me.” Tony chuckled at the near pout on Steve’s face and took a bit of pity on the man as he removed his fingers and sat back up. 

”Alright, baby.” The endearment slipped from Tony’s lips automatically. It was so worth it for the way Steve just melted into his touches. “Since you came so prettily for me, I’ll let you touch.” The brunette was fumbling for the packet behind him as he spoke, and finally grabbed it. 

Immediately Steve was stroking down his chest, tracing the scars around his reactor and making Tony’s breath whoosh out of him. Instead of making him seize up like it usually did, that was relaxing him. It felt so…comforting. Before he could open the condom packet though, Steve was covering his hands and shaking his head as he looked up at Tony, nibbling his lip like he did when nervous, shy, or anxious. “I…unless you want it, we don’t need…” 

Tony raised a brow. “Oh, you can’t catch or give anything…sure you don’t want it for easy clean up?” He watched as red spread down Steve’s chest. 

”I-I…I like…I wanna feel you. In me, please. Wanna feel you all…slick and― and hot when you come ‘n me,” Steve managed, squirming as he forced that out past his embarrassment. Tony groaned loudly, throwing the condom carelessly behind him. He kissed Steve hard, grinding down into the hard cock against his own. Impressive, how fast Steve was hard again…Tony would have to test that sometime…

For science.

”Fuck that’s hot. _Fuck._ Do you even _know_ how many times teenage me jerked off to the thought of marking Captain America up inside and out?? _Fuck,”_ Tony murmured, trailing searing hot kisses down Steve’s neck and collar. “How is this my life? I love it!” The blonde beneath him laughed breathlessly as he let Tony have full access to his neck, tilting his head back for him. 

”Ha, thank you? I guess a lotta’ times?” That was kind of odd to hear, but flattering nonetheless. “Mmmm, c’mon then, please?” Steve met Tony’s eyes as he came up form marking his neck and fought past the embarrassment, thinking Tony would like this. He looked up through his lashes and put a shy, innocent look on his face, which wasn’t hard at all. “Please, master?” Steve asked softly. 

He wasn’t disappointed as he watched Tony’s eyes darken, and Steve lost sight of Tony’s already elusive, wide pupils. The brunette quickly kissed him hard and deep, and Steve returned it equally. As Tony sucked roughly at Steve’s lips and tongue, he quickly and blindly found the lube, coated his fingers again, slicked his cock, and shifted their hips a bit, getting Steve’s up higher under his thighs. Tony bit hard on Steve’s lower lip a he lined up and pressed forward, slow but not stopping even when Steve whimpered and moaned into his mouth. Steve was definitely not complaining about the delicious stretch.

Tony couldn’t resist pulling back to watch that gorgeous face go lax with pleasure as Steve tried to take him. The blonde wrapped his legs around Tony’s waist, squeezing a little as he gripped Tony’s arms. “Ah, ah, ahhh, _ah…!_ So big, T―master…” Steve quickly corrected himself that time. The Captain’s cock twitched when Tony was all the way in and rocked forward hard, as if he could get even deeper. “Uhnn!”

They both groaned deeply and grunted as Tony kept thrusting like that, already so deep but pressing even more, hard and slow and rhythmic. Steve was trying not to lose it, leaving red lines down Tony’s chest with is nails. Soon Tony was pulling back more, fucking into Steve with short, deep, hard thrusts. He angled his hips up with another shift, yanking Steve down a little off the pillow and when he thrust forward again the Captain choked on a gasp. Tony grinned rather wolfishly and gave a sharp, harder thrust, moaning himself at the obscene sound that wrung from Steve.

”Uah! Auh, auhh, fuck, fuck, To―ohh, oh…! Master! Haa―ahh…” Steve couldn’t shut up, and when he slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle himself Tony yanked it away. 

”Wanna hear you, pretty boy. Uhn…fuck, you’re fuckin’ twitchin’ around me…you like my cock that m-much, Captain~?” Tony purred past his own groans and grunts of effort as he pounded into Steve, making each thrust as hard as he could. The sound of their skin slapping together was filthy and loud, just like their voices. 

Steve was bright red from that, but his cock twitched hard when Tony called him by his title. There were streaks of pre cum on his abdomen now, and his cock was positively leaking from Tony’s words. 

Tony moaned harshly as Steve left burning lines down his back that matched the ones on his chest. “Yeah, I can―ahh― tell you do, Cap. So fuckin’ dirty…” 

The blonde let his legs fall from around Tony’s waist so the brunette could move easier, and Tony hummed deep in his chest, then grabbed under Steve’s knees. He hiked his legs up and shoved them down, earning a whimper out of Steve as Tony bent him near in half and left him open and exposed. “Uhhnn, master, mast―ahhh!” Steve tossed his head back, fisting the sheets hard beside himself since he couldn’t reach Tony with his legs up like that. 

Tony leaned up, still holding Steve’s legs up and apart. Mmm, as good as Steve looked like this he almost regretted the blonde not being able to leave more scratches down his back…But that could wait till another time. Tony didn’t want this to end so soon, so he started playing with his rhythm to see what made Steve get the loudest. He switched to shallow, quick thrusts and found they drew new, short little cries from the blonde. He tried drawing almost all the way out on every thrust and groaned himself at the deep gasps they earned. When Tony made the long thrusts quick, Steve started writhing and gasping as if he couldn’t handle it. 

“Fuck, such a good boy, takin’ everything I give you…” Tony praised. Steve groaned at that, and the brunette chuckled, leaning back and brushing sweat damp hair away from his face quickly then putting his hand back on Steve’s leg to hold it where he wanted it. He liked Steve all spread out for him like this, beautifully submissive and letting Tony take what he wanted. 

The brunette drew out slowly, until just the tip of his cock was still inside Steve, then slammed back in. Each time he did that, Steve’s back arched and he shouted in pleasure. The blonde sobbed softly as Tony rammed into his prostate and then ground there again, as deep as he could get. As much as Steve never wanted this to stop, he couldn’t keep his tenuous control any longer. 

”Master―uhn! M-mast…nnnh, please, ah…!” Steve gasped, his hand straying to his angry red, neglected cock. He whined softly when Tony batted his hand away and leaned down over him, bending him all the way in half again. Tony nipped the shell of Steve’s ear and murmured lowly, “You come on my cock or not at all, Captain.” 

Steve cursed fouly and his cock twitched hard, leaking faster now. Tony groaned deeply and took a breath before continuing, wanting to avoid stumbling over his words again. “Ahn…wanna watch Captain America come all…fuck…all over my cock. So fuckin’ tight, Steve, God…” Tony breathed, chasing his own pleasure for a few moments. He loved how responsive Steve was, gasping and moaning even when Tony didn’t hit his prostate and sounding like a whore whenever he did. It was fucking beautiful and sexy and Tony was starting to have a hard time holding back from coming before Steve did. 

So he let go of one of Steve legs and leaned down. Tony wasn’t thinking at that point, so focused on making the man below him scream that he didn’t hesitate before grabbing Steve’s hand on the side his leg was free, lacing their fingers together and leaning on the blonde’s hand. Steve gripped his hand right back, feeling the same warm bubbling in his chest as Tony did from the intimate move. Tony took a nipple into his mouth, sucking hard and flicking his tongue over the reddened nub. Steve whimpered loudly at that, which earned a moan from Tony at the lewd sound. The Captain’s chest heaved for air, the vibrations on his sensitive chest driving him crazy. 

He was done for when Tony shifted his hips a little again and drew halfway out on every thrust, snapping his hips hard into Steve’s prostate and grinding when he was balls deep. It didn’t take long like that for Steve to rip the sheets with his free hand and wail as he came harder than he could recall ever doing. The blonde’s hips kept jerking and his hole clenched and fluttered around Tony, making the brunette groan deeply as he came too. Tony hadn’t come that hard in years, and he bit hard around Steve’s nipple instinctively, leaving teeth marks circling his bright rosy areola. The Captain twitched again at that, making an absolutely wrecked noise low in his throat. If Steve wasn’t so far gone then, he would’ve been mortified by the thick whimper that tore form him as he felt Tony coming hard inside him, still thrusting through it in sharp, hard little movements. The brunette rocked them both through it, grinding deep again in the way they both loved and only drawing their highs out. Steve gasped, tearing the sheet in another place (or two, maybe. Steve was too distracted to be bothered by that detail though) as he writhed gently beneath Tony. His moan was filthy and drawn out as Tony’s grinding gradually eased then stopped as they became oversensitive and shaky. 

Tony kept kissing over the abused nipple in his mouth, licking over it to soothe the pain left from his teeth. Steve just groaned weakly, still twitching around Tony’s softening cock, gently now, and trying to catch his breath. Tony was gasping for air too, as he left sucking kisses and nips on Steve’s right pec. Steve caught his breath faster than Tony, but was content to stay like this while Tony caught up. By the time Tony had recovered too, Steve’s right pec was littered with hickeys and teeth marks of varying shades of red. The bite mark around his nipple was darkest, and his nipple itself was a bright, beautifully abused red. 

Eventually Tony leaned up, flicking his damp bangs back and looking down at Steve. Bothe their pupils were fucked and their cheeks flushed with color. They just looked at each other for a moment, then Steve leaned up and Tony met him halfway in a sweet, deep kiss. They loosened their grip on each other’s hands as the slow, leisurely passionate kiss went on. Tony stroked his fingers down Steve’s palm and the soft, pale underside of his arm once their fingers untangled. He pulled out slowly, swallowing Steve’s tiny moan. The brunette drew back and kissed Steve’s cheek. “Shh, I got yo― nnh…― I got you…” They were both so oversensitive even the movement of Tony pulling out was nearly too much. But soon Steve was letting out another breathy noise when he felt himself left empty and leaking. 

Tony sat up all the way, letting Steve’s other leg down and looking down to admire his work. Steve was blotchy with color, his face was lax and slightly awed, his stomach was covered in streaks of come, his cock was red and looked nice and spent, and his hole was all red and fluttering, trying to close but having little success. Tony groaned as he watched some of his come trickle out of Steve. “Fuck, you’re all open for me, Stevie…”

Steve swore sharply, squirming and trying to shut his legs only to have the insides of his knees hit Tony’s hips. “Uhn…” He didn’t get the chance to ask Tony not to call him Bucky’s old nickname for him, because he ended up crying out in a husky, wobbly voice as Tony’s finger traced him reddened, abused rim gently. “Ahnn! Tone…!” 

”Mmmm, lemme clean you up, baby boy…” Tony spoke before he thought again, running his hand over the blush staining Steve’s chest from the pet name. The brunette moved down again, licking over Steve’s softened cock and delighting in the half pained gasp he heard from above him. He chuckled a little and moved down, kissing the seam on the blonde’s balls then flicking his tongue out to lick up the trail of come from Steve’s hole. He got his hands under Steve’s hips and shoved him up a little to reach better, then licked again and sucked over his entrance. The sound Steve made was pure sex. Tony grunted as his cock twitched rather painfully. He licked into Steve gently, sucking him clean and moaning softly at how soft and open Steve’s ass was around his tongue. The Captain could only groan and writhe, his eyes watering from overwhelmed pleasure. Usually he’d be able to go again thanks to the serum, but Tony had worn him out from how hard he’d come the last time, so he didn’t get hard again. Tony curled his tongue as he drew it out, then gave the pucker little kitten licks and a last kiss before letting Steve’s hips down and smoothing his hands up the blonde’s thighs. Steve drew Tony into another blueberry flavored kiss, letting the brunette lean most of his weight on him. Steve rolled them so he was straddling Tony, unable to stop the slow, simmering kiss. He just couldn’t get enough, even when both their lips were tingling with overuse. 

Eventually they pulled away from one another, and Steve laid next to Tony. The brunette rolled and tossed one leg over Steve’s, and an arm over his chest, cuddling into his side. Steve wrapped an arm under and around Tony’s waist, tugging him up to lie half on him so his arm wouldn’t fall asleep. For a time they laid there in a peaceful quiet, relaxing in one another’s arms. 

”…We sh’d shower?” Tony mumbled after what could’ve been five or twenty minutes. Steve grunted softly. 

”Comfy,” he pointed out. And wow, yeah, both their voices were all husky now. It was perfect. 

Steve felt the vibrations of Tony’s chuckle against his chest. “True. Nap first,” the billionaire decided. Steve hummed in agreement. 

Steve thought Tony had dropped to sleep, but then he heard his soft, deep voice add, “N’ then I can make ya make those perfect sounds for me ‘gain inna’ shower. Gonna make you beg since you ripped my favorite sheets.”

Steve laughed even as he blushed again, his skin warming against Tony's. He tugged Tony all the way on top of him and hugged him around the waist. He stroked up and down Tony’s back as the brunette rested his head over Steve’s heart. 

”Go to sleep, shellhead,” Steve murmured fondly. He could feel Tony’s smile against one of the hickeys he’d left on his pec as they let themselves drift off. 

This was so much better than fine. It was downright _nice,_ even. 


	8. One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve slips. Badly. 
> 
> Ten gentle arms help him back up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> J: Thank you for the patience and reviews and comments! It really helps to know how much people love reading this! I'm now on summer break so hopefully the chapters will come faster, assuming no writer's block happens! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy~

The others had been trying to gently coax Steve out of the shell he’d drawn into. The Captain had woken up one day, and the fog had been black again. The others didn’t know why, and neither did Steve. The Captain thought he should be happy, but after Tony…he wanted more than “friends with benefits”. And he kept thinking of how nice it would be to wake up warm and safe again in Thor’s arms, or the usually cold Natasha’s, or Bruce’s, who was always so gentle in contrast to the Hulk…Steve didn’t know why these thoughts, previously occasional, were now all he could think about. He didn’t deserve his team as friends, much less as lovers! And all six…?! There was no way! The twenty first century may be better about queers, Steve thought, but there was no way six people could be in a relationship…he didn’t realize how wrong he was.

His traitorous brain kept telling Steve that he didn’t deserve any of this, and his dreams had been plagued with memories of “customers” and beatings and the pain of his suicide attempts. He couldn’t even grab ice out of the freezer without having to go curl in a blanket afterwards to ward away a phantom chill, trying to convince himself he wasn’t drowning and freezing at the same time like when he’d crashed the plane… 

Though they didn’t know all this was plaguing Steve, the past few days had been bad ones. The Avengers knew that much. The blonde didn’t seem to react much to conversations, was restless or lethargic randomly, and was sleeping far more than he needed to. Tony had found him awake at the stupid times of night he was still up at, or passed out on the couch on the common room at two p.m. He’d stopped giving them the requested two memories a day, usually shrugging it off whenever he was asked about it. This morning, when Steve walked into the kitchen rubbing his eyes and looking for a drink, Bruce and Tony tried to corner him.

”Morning, how are you?” Bruce asked the blonde. He’d prefer Steve to look so tired and have that bedhead after he finished with him the night before, keeping the blonde up…Bruce shook those thoughts away. Now wasn’t the time for daydreaming about his teammates again!

Steve yawned and mumbled, “Fine.” 

”Number?” Tony asked around his mug of coffee. Steve raised a brow at the question and shrugged. 

”Don’t really know. Doesn’t matter. We out of orange juice? Oooo, we have apple cider, never mind.” The Captain got a glass of cider, nursing it like Tony did his coffee. His tone was a little excited, but still too hollow. Steve loved cider, though, everyone knew it due to how often he drank the stuff. Plus the flavored drinks of this century were pretty awesome. Since caffeine didn’t affect his metabolism― just like alcohol didn’t― Steve generally didn’t bother with it, preferring tea or juice instead. 

The two brunettes frowned. “It does matter…fine, if you don’t want to tell us that, give us one memory. You haven’t been doing that lately,” Tony said, his tone stern. Steve merely grunted though, waving him off and going to leave. Bruce stopped him, stepping in front of him. 

”Either a bad memory or number, pick one to give us,” Bruce ordered. Steve…didn’t quite glare. That was too much emotion to put into his face, He did manage to sigh a little though, and the scoff came pretty easy too. 

”Fine.” Steve took another drink of his cider. His number wasn’t something he wanted to share, they’d only worry and pester and push him more…he wasn’t thinking when he let his mouth run with the first thing that came to mind. The nightmare that had woken him this morning in a cold sweat was too fresh in his mind, and it was distracting Steve from filtering himself. 

The Captain then continued, voice clipped and monotone. “Dad left a lot of liquor around the house. I liked it. Being drunk almost made the customers bearable. Or the beatings. Helped more with the customers, though.” He took another drink. “I liked scotch best; got me near blackout drunk fastest. Now, excuse me,” and the blonde gently shouldered past Bruce, heading to his room and changing into workout clothes before heading down to the gym. He regretted saying that now….he didn’t like sharing any of his past. But the haze was so damn thick, he didn’t even care anymore. Tony and Bruce were left trying to take that in, staring at each other with pained, bewildered expressions. How could someone so inherently kind have had to go through such horrible things…? It wasn’t fair…

”This only proves we need to do more for him,” Tony pointed out. Bruce’s brows drew in sadness. “There’s only so much we _can_ do, Tony…but we’re making some progress I think. Baby steps. You know? We just gotta keep being here for him.” 

The billionaire sighed, getting up to refill his cup. “I need more caffeine for this shit.”

*****

Steve walked into the gym, clad in just running pants and a tank top. He glanced to the punching bag and other equipment he usually used, but didn’t feel like using them today. He glanced to the wall of various sized knives and headed over, grabbing the ones Natasha always kept on her when they went on missions. Steve frowned as he looked at the gleaming black edge of the blade, feeling the balanced weight in his hand. It had been almost two weeks since…he needed… The blonde shook his head, knowing Jarvis was watching and would surely alert the others if he took the knife or used it. But he needed the sharp pain, to see the blood…he deserved that. Not his team, but pain. It would help him function again too, like always…

Instead, Steve grabbed several of the same knives and headed to the targets, starting to throw them. He wasn’t bad, but kept hitting the outer ring of the targets. 

Up on the common floor, Natasha and Bruce were sitting reading together. Jarvis alerted the two of them since they were closest to Steve. “Agent Romanoff, Doctor Banner, as my new protocols indicate, I am to inform the nearest team member when Captain Rogers is utilizing any sharp object. He is currently in the gym using the throwing knives.” 

The two looked up to the ceiling, and Natasha stood. “I’ll head down and practice with him, make sure he doesn’t hurt himself.”

Bruce frowned but nodded. “Alright… make sure he takes care of himself. He’s been doing pretty well lately; let’s help him keep it up.” 

The redhead shot the scientist a small smile as she headed into the elevator.

It wasn’t long before Natasha was down in the gym, in time to hear Steve curse softly. “Wow, Cap, got quite the mouth on you, hm?”

Steve glanced to the redhead as he tried to fix the broken target. He’d thrown the knife so hard it had broken it…“Ah, um, sorry,” he muttered, giving up on the target and setting the three broken pieces of it on the floor. Nat raised a brow at him as she grabbed some larger knives to practice with. 

”What’d the target do to you?”

Steve huffed a laugh and came back to the throwing line where Natasha stood. “Oh, you know, insulted my pride and all.”

”You threw it too hard, didn’t you?” She asked, quirking her lips knowingly. 

The blonde looked sheepish. “Heh….yeah.”

”Gotta get a hang on those biceps of yours, Rogers,” Nat reprimanded gently, sinking all five of her knives in the five remaining targets. Steve watched her throw them so quickly and with such skill, and whistled. 

”Impressive…and please, spare my ego. I hear enough about my muscles from Tony. He’s started calling me Dorito,” The Captain said, mouth set in something close to a pout. Natasha couldn’t help but laugh at that, more genuinely than Steve was used to hearing from her. 

”Now that is beautiful. Perfect. Alright, I’ll spare your poor ego…throw one for me, let me see where you need to improve,” Nat said, waving her hand towards the targets. Steve smiled crookedly, turning and flipping one knife in his hand. He whipped his arm out and the blade sunk near the outside of the target again. 

”Twist your wrist more, don’t put so much force behind it, let your wrist do the work, not your arm.”

It took a few more tries, but soon Steve was hitting nearer to the bullseye. He shot Natasha a small smile as they went to get the knives out of the targets. “Thanks, Nat. You’re great with knives, I wanted to try, so I guess you’re the best teacher.”

The two spent another hour or so working with knives ranging from pocket size to practically machetes. Natasha was enjoying this. Steve was charismatic, kind, and oddly innocent seeming. He could read through her careful exterior, too. Nat knew he respected her a lot, and she couldn’t help but like the blonde. Who could resist that shy smile and bright eyes? Well, they weren’t bright now; dull once more…the redhead was going to make sure the whole team could spend another movie night commenting on Steve’s eyes while the Captain was passed out on the couch again. She’d make sure of it. That had been a good night. 

By the time they topped the ground around the targets was littered with blades, and the rack on the wall was nearly empty of them. Eventually, Steve and Natasha started piling them all near the sharpeners to be sharpened later. 

In a split second between trips, Steve glanced to one of Jarvis’ cameras. As he picked up a couple handfuls of knives, he took one of the small black ones, turned from the camera while Nat was facing away from him, and let the blade fall into his pants pocket. The decision was a split one, made within a second or two and on instinct. Steve needed to do what he needed to do, that was all. The blonde continued putting the rest of the knives in a pile, and ignored the guilt trying to creep up on him through the thick fog. 

Clint walked in just as Steve was walking out. The archer gave the Captain a strong pat on the back as they passed one another, and Steve gave him a gentle smile as he headed up the stairs to his own floor. Clint and Natasha began sharpening the knives, the task relaxing and passing with idle talk or comfortable silence. 

Once on his floor Steve leaned back against the stairwell door for a moment. He took a slow breath, and then spoke up. “Jarvis, private mode. One hour.” The AI hesitated for only a second before replying, “Yes, sir,” and shutting his camera and audio surveillance off. His protocols said nothing about Steve not being allowed to put him in private mode, so…

Steve headed straight to his bathroom, stripping out of his slightly sweaty clothes then sitting on the edge of the tub, feet inside it, and trying to focus past the haze. It was so thick lately he couldn’t feel anything. His reactions were autopilot, and if asked, he couldn’t recall the simplest things. He didn’t remember what he did yesterday, every memory was bogged down, and his emotions were on vacation along with his care. He just wanted to go back to normal…and there was only one way he knew that was going to happen. 

With the ebony blade poised over his unmarred thigh, Steve hesitated. His team…didn’t want him to cut anymore…they’d taken all his blades for a reason………….but they didn’t understand just how hard it was to breathe through this. Steve was suffocating. If he wanted to do that, he would’ve gotten some nice strong rope again and done it himself. 

Besides, he could always hide it again.

Mind made up, Steve pressed down hard and dragged the blade across his thigh. He inhaled sharply at the burning pain. It had been a while…but the familiar pain was welcome, and the second cut allowed the fog to lift just a little bit. Breathing a sigh of relief, Steve pressed a little harder on his next few cuts, making them nice and long, striping them almost evenly. He lost track of time, getting lost in the easy slide of the blade, the warm, pretty red, and the jolt of feeling this brought. Finally, _finally,_ he could feel again…! The fog was gray now, and he could breathe, the vicious claws were out of his chest and he could _breathe…!_

The blonde set the knife aside and watched the blood drip from the cuts on both thighs, letting it calm him. He couldn’t count how many he’d made; there was too much red coating his skin. But that was fine, the serum would have them scabbed in mere hours. Eventually Steve got into the shower, hissing harshly as the warm water ran into the cuts and washed away the blood. He got out and quickly wrapped his thighs, not wanting to bleed everywhere. The flow hadn’t stopped…but that was okay, it didn’t matter. Steve cleaned the blade thoroughly and any blood that had gotten on the edge of the tub, and then headed out into his room. The Captain dressed, marveling at how easy it was to move and do things now that he could see clearer. The sharp pain and beautiful red of his cuts was a jump start, in a sense. Back to himself. The blackness was no longer around his throat and impeding his vision, he could function again! Thank God…

Steve headed to his studio, relishing in the spike of pain and limp with each step. He deserved that too. He’d relish in it before he had to hide his limp from the team and before the serum took care of it… He hid the blade behind the acrylic paints he hardly ever used, on the top shelf. The other shelves were full of oil or watercolors, canvases, brushes, or art books. The blonde went and grabbed a quick sandwich from the kitchen on his floor, then came back and started laying out his next painting. In his studio, one entire wall was a window, showing the New York skyline and streets beautifully. He sketched the outline one handed as he ate, then started painting in watercolor as the sun began to set. Hm…he was going to need more yellow and orange paint at this rate…

Steve lost himself in the easy strokes of his brush, feeling truly relaxed for the first time in weeks. Maybe he’d call Oliver and set up a coffee or something…or a movie. People did that these days, right? It wasn’t like he would take Tony out…as much as he might want to, Steve knew the billionaire was only going to want sex out of their relationship. Which Steve wasn’t exactly going to complain about, considering how well the two meshed. But still….well, more was merely a nice thought, he supposed. 

*****

It was about an hour after they started sharpening the knives that Clint and Natasha began putting them back on the rack, trying to organize them according to size like they had been before. Clint frowned when he saw one of the smaller ones missing, glancing back to the pile they hadn’t put away yet. But the ones left were all larger than where the hole in the rack was… “Tasha, where’s this little knife?” He asked, pointing. 

She paused and glanced to the hole, gauging the size of knife that would fit there then to the pile they had left to put away. She quickly saw the missing knife was nowhere to be seen. “I don’t know, what d….” Her eyes widened, and she dropped the knives in her hand. Clint grabbed her arm before she could bolt out of the gym. 

”Woah, woah, Tash, what’s wrong??”

”Steve. He was―he helped me clean them up, he must have taken one…” Natasha explained quickly, eyes hiding the panic she was feeling. Clint knew it was there though, both from how well he knew her and because he felt the same spike of alarm when he realized what had happened. “I knew he was hiding just how much he was struggling from us, but he’s…I didn’t think he’d have a seamless recovery, but we can’t let him…!” She trailed off as she bolted towards the stairs. 

”Oh, _fuck_ me,” Clint muttered exasperatedly, following Natasha as she ran up the stairs to Steve’s floor.

Their Captain needed them again. And they’d gladly be there for him. In a heartbeat. 

*******

Steve jumped a little when the door to his studio slammed open, turning to see Clint and Natasha slightly out of breath and looking like they were trying to hide panic. 

”Guys, where’s the fire, what’s―”

”Where is it,” Natasha demanded. Steve frowned. 

”Where is wha―”

”Don’t you dare. Don’t you _dare_ do that,” Clint growled, shaking his head. Steve recalled the fact that when he’d left the gym, he’d heard the knife sharpeners start up. That meant they’d been sharpening all of them before putting them away…that meant…they’d found one was missing. They knew.

Well shit. He needed to be more careful.

But really, how could he be blamed? Thinking through the haze was like trying to run underwater when you didn’t know how to swim. 

The Captain turned back to his painting, shading across the colorful sunset on his canvas that matches the one outside the window. He took a long moment before answering. His voice was calm and no louder than it had to be to be heard. “Not any of your business.”

”Like hell it isn’t,” Clint scoffed, coming to stand more in front of Steve. Natasha followed, standing next to Clint. “We’re your team, we don’t want you hurting, much less hurting yourself!”

”It’s not like you can hide it now, Cap, might as well tell us where it is,” Natasha said. 

Steve stayed quiet and kept painting.

Natasha sighed. “Jarvis, where did he hide it?”

”Captain Rogers put me on private mode for an hour upon his arrival to this floor. I never observed a knife in his possession.”

”Oh, God dammit Steve!” Clint said exasperatedly. Steve huffed a humorless laugh at how frustrated the archer was. 

”Yeah, sorry, not quite that careless,” The Captain muttered. 

”Careless enough to think we wouldn’t notice a knife was missing though,” Natasha pointed out. Steve pursed his lips. 

”Well…fog was too thick to see through, I couldn’t focus enough to realize you’d notice,” he admitted quietly. Clint frowned, noticing that past tense and fearing what it may mean. 

”It’s not thick anymore…?”

”No,” Steve said softly and simply, shading in the streetlights. 

”Regardless of if it helped or not, it’s not healthy to turn to self-harm, Steve. It will only do more damage in the long run. You need to give us the knife and let us help. There are other things you can do when the urge hits. You can hold ice cubes, they burn. You can snap rubber bands on your wrist, or draw on your skin where you want to cut. But you have to turn to those alternatives, Steve, you can’t keep…” Natasha trailed off. 

Steve hummed absently. “I doubt that. It’s helped for years, I don’t see why it’s so terrible. Serum keeps it from doing any real damage.” 

Clint’s brow was creased from how monotone Steve’s voice was. “That doesn’t…that―!!”

Tony walked in, Thor right behind him. “Steve! Jarvis called us, said you were arguing with the spies and that we’d want to come up. What’s wrong?” 

The Captain set down his paintbrush once he was done filling in the sky and stars on his painting, and turned to the newcomers with a frown. As he opened his mouth though, Bruce came running in, lab coat covered in…some very odd-smelling slime. 

”Jarvis said you needed me, what’s wrong, Steve??” Bruce demanded. He’d been in the middle of an experiment, but it didn’t matter. His friend needed him. 

Steve looked between all his teammates and set his lips in a line. They…they’d all come running….why…? They shouldn’t have cared, he was fine, he took care of it. Why were they so quick to care…? They shouldn’t care about him…

”Since he’s playing stoic, I’ll fill in for him,” Clint fumed. “He took one of the knives from the training room, put Jarvis on private mode for an hour, almost certainly relapsed, and won’t tell us where he hid the knife or listen to us when we say this isn’t healthy.” 

Thor made a pained noise. “Steven…” Bruce winced at the news, looking to the uncharacteristically calm and collected Captain and breathing his name in a concerned, saddened tone as well. 

Steve raised a brow and glared, giving his team a very exasperated, closed off look. He tried to be stern to hide the panic welling in him. He hadn’t wanted this to happen…! He was supposed to hide it, dammit! “It doesn’t matter. It’s fine.” 

”Yeah, no, absolutely not. Not taking your shit right now,” Tony laughed a little, rather humorlessly, walking right up to Steve and yanking him to his feet. The blonde gave the billionaire a confused and slightly annoyed look. 

”I appreciate the concern, but I’m fine. You can leave now.”

”You really think we’re just gonna leave?!” Tony demanded, glaring right up the couple inches between him and Steve. Thor came over and laid a hand on both their shoulders. 

”Brothers, please, we can solv―”

”I won’t make it a request, then. Leave.” Steve ordered, carefully stern and toneless. His team was too kind for their own good, they shouldn’t care. He’d be fine by himself, always had been. They’d get over it and get the hint, give up on him eventually…But his team wasn’t having it. 

”Not until we fix this, no,” Bruce said stubbornly. Tony didn’t budge from where he was. “Did you use the knife?” He demanded. “That’s most important right now, making sure you’re alright.” 

Steve glared at the brunette for a moment longer before scoffing and shaking his head, breaking the stubborn, irate stare-off. “No, of course I didn’t use the one thing that’s consistently helps me for years. Why would I do what does no real damage and helps me breathe and function through this?? That would just be foolish and downright _unhealthy!”_ Steve ground out, voice sarcastic and falsely cheerful. 

His team looked a mix of upset, pissed, and worried. It was Bruce who spoke first after that. “You might not see it, but this is proof it only does more harm than good in the long run! It’s not a permanent solution, Steve! It’s temporary, a habit, and not good for you mentally!” 

Steve stayed quiet, glowering at Bruce in a way that said “I don’t believe you, how would you know, you don’t understand, that’s just not true”. Tony was the one who, while wracking his brain for a way to get through to Steve, came upon the correct thing to say. 

”If you found out one of us was cutting, and tried to offer help, and were pushed away, how would you feel? How would it feel, knowing your teammate was hurting―hurting themself― and you weren’t allowed to even try and help, much less be able to do anything?” Tony asked, reserved and cynically. 

There was a pause as Steve took this in. He blinked as he thought about it. If Clint or Tony was…and he couldn’t help, if he pushed them away… He was hurting his team. The only people who really cared, who’d never failed to show him kindness…What kind of Captain was Steve if he was hurting his team?! The Captain’s eyes widened a little as he realized the pain he was causing the people he loved ―loved?! Loved…well, yeah, he did― and he took a small step backwards. 

“I…you…” Steve’s eyes stung, and he tried to blink it away. If he was in their shoes, he’d feel so useless, just like his father had always told him he was. He’d feel helpless, only able to watch as his friend hurt themself and shoved him away, because he was useless anyways…

Clint tried to console him. “It’s okay, Steve.”

Steve shook his head hard. How could he have hurt his team?? Hurt them like his father had hurt him, basically called them useless and worthless… The only people who didn’t treat him like a relic, who always treated him amazingly… “I-I’m sorry! God, I’m so sorry, I didn’t want―never wanted―not you. Don’t wanna hurt any of you. You’re―you’re my tea―” Steve choked a bit and his hands shook slightly as he raised them to rub furiously at his eyes, and then covered his face out of shame. “Sorry. So sorry. So sorry…” He muttered brokenly, the loathing malleable in his tone. 

Thor moved between Steve and Tony, putting both hands on Steve’s wrists and pulling them gently down to look the Captain in the eye. “You need not apologize, Steven, we are not cross with you.” But Steve was just shaking his head still, backing up with Thor still holding his wrists until he hit the wall, sliding down next to some finished paintings he’d propped against the wall to dry. No one noticed his steps were weak and shaky from more than just panic. Thor followed him, crouching in front of Steve and laying his hands on the blonde’s knees as he hid his face in them. He rubbed soothing circles there as Steve didn’t stop shaking; trying to talk him down from the attack he could tell was coming. He was so panicked from the thought of hurting his team…

Steve was still muttering heartbroken apologies, his breath coming faster and faster. It was Tony who helped him this time, pushing Thor gently aside and running a hand through Steve’s hair like he did days ago when they’d slept together. It had made Steve melt then, hopefully it would calm and comfort him now, too. 

”Hey, hush, Cap, everything’s okay. No one’s mad. You’re okay, we’re okay.” The billionaire’s voice was softer and more soothing than the team could recall ever hearing. And it was working. Steve soon looked up, blue eyes glistening and nervous. He met Tony’s, and managed to calm his breathing after a few minutes. 

”…Don’t…want to hurt you…only thing…only ones…last thing I ever wanna do, you’re my…but you shouldn’t care, you shouldn’t…! How could I hurt―so _sorry…!”_ Steve shook his head again, squeezing his eyes shut. Natasha made a disapproving noise. 

”You hurt us by shoving us away, so what? You want to fix it, let us in. Let us help you. We care about you, you idiot, just get that through your head. We’re not going to hate you no matter what you think,” the redhead declared bluntly. Steve looked up at her, then to the others. Thor was looking like a protective big brother. Clint was looking like a brother who wanted to pretend he wasn’t concerned but was actually freaking out with worry. Bruce was looking like the awkward brother who just wanted to help everyone out. He took a slow, unsteady breath, letting it out slowly. Tony nodded a little. 

”There you go, breathe like that for us, nice and slow…do this every time you feel like this, it’ll help, trust me…”

And God, was it ever easy to follow those soft but firm instructions. Steve kept taking deep, slow breaths, finding his racing heart and panic faded a little with every exhale. After a few minutes he let out a tired, annoyed breath and let his head thunk back against the wall. 

”….I don’t think I can stop…need it,” Steve admitted in a very soft voice. “Been doing it so long…only thing that ever really keeps the fog light and bearable…can’t just _stop…”_

”You don’t need it. You want it. There’s a difference. You can fight it, and break the habit, and get better. I know you can,” Natasha asserted. She was confident and sounded so sure, like it was so easy…

”……Maybe.” The Captain mumbled. Bruce shook his head. “No, be confident. You can! You’re Captain America, for Chrissake!” 

Blue eyes flicked to him. Tentatively, Steve tried, “I…I can.”

”There you go, Cap!” Clint encouraged. He received a flicker of a smile from Steve. Thor stood, grabbing Steve’s hand and pulling him to his feet. The blonde was careful not to step, not wanting his team to see how unsteady he was on his torn legs. The cuts were aching so sharply…maybe he’d gone deeper than he’d realized. Hm. Oh well.

”Now, the blade? Let us have it, so that you are not tempted in the future,” Thor said, chipper. Steve looked up at him, then down, pressing his lips together again. 

”…no.” His voice was small. 

”Why don’t you want to give it to us, Steve…?” Bruce asked gently, before Clint or Tony could even start on the Captain. 

”I…” He paused, not wanting to continue. But his team was waiting for an answer, and Steve didn’t want to keep hurting them by shoving them away…

“I-I might need it again…need it just in case― can’t breathe― can’t think, and ―drownin’ again― then the knife, helps― and I might need it again, haze always comes back, I…” Steve stammered, shakily explaining. 

Thor had hit his limit, though. “Steven, no!” The Captain jumped a little from the loud voice right in front of him. But the god wasn’t done. “You cannot keep turning to this destruction to soothe yourself! Your brothers and sister are here for you, you mustn’t…! I won’t allow it! I won’t allow you to harm yourself, not when I can do something to aid you…!!!”

But the god’s eyes were watering as well, and Steve was staring, shocked. He’d…Thor hadn’t cried other than during movie nights…he’d never seen the man moved to tears like this…the sob that caught in the god’s chest was misplaced, it should never come from one so strong and kind, Thor didn’t― _never_ deserved to be in pain like that, _no…_

”I just…I merely wish I could…that we could be enough. So that you would no longer feel the need for…so that you would no longer be in such agony…but we are not. And _I_ am not. For all my strength, it seems, I am powerless when it truly matters. How can I be worthy of my hammer if I cannot even aid my brother and friend??” Thor demanded, despaired. He wiped the tears from his eyes, not ashamed of them, but not wanting to fall apart when his Captain needed him. 

The others were quiet, watching the blondes’ interaction in slight awe. Thor really did have a massive, kind heart for his loved ones…they knew this, of course, but this was the first time they’d seen it outside of battle. It was…moving. Humbling. Loving. 

Steve blinked away the tears that had come to his eyes without him noticing. He couldn’t keep hurting his team like this…they were practically his family. Well, that made what was between him and Tony a bit weird, as well as his feelings towards the rest of them, but…still. He couldn’t keep being so… _selfish._ Taking a breath, the blonde walked to his shelf and reached behind the paints on the top shelf. The team all noticed his step was off as he walked, and they looked to Steve’s legs with concerned faces. So he’d done his leg, then… The blonde sighed as he brought the black, cleaned blade out and handed it to Clint, who was closest to him, just an arm’s length away. He didn’t look at any of them as he did, and still didn’t say a word. He didn’t know what to say, couldn’t find the words. 

Clint took the knife, relaxing a little bit once it was out of Steve’s possession. Bruce spoke up, voice kind. “You’re limping. Show us what you did? Need to know how bad it is.”

Steve tensed up and shook his head quickly, staring at the ground, eyes darting anywhere but at his teammates. Natasha and Clint frowned deeply. Thor ran a hand through his hair, a habit he’d probably picked up from Steve or Bruce. 

”We need to know how bad it is, we only want to help. We’re not gonna be mad or judge you, man,” Clint tried to soothe. Steve didn’t look up, shaking his head again in small little motions. He couldn’t…he couldn’t… 

”Steve―” Tony started, but Bruce cut him off. 

”No, Tony. We don’t want to send him into another panic attack. He’s already shaking again.” Oh…? Oh, he was, Steve hadn’t even noticed… “I just need to make sure he’s okay, and maybe clean them if he didn’t take care of them properly.” 

Steve grabbed his arm, digging his nails in in an attempt to stave off the anxiety curling in him. The haze was winding around him, taunting and tempting him back into its grasp. At least then he wouldn’t shake from his skin and panic so badly, maybe it would be better to not feel at all… how could it have come to this? He’d never wanted them to know about any of this, never wanted them to see their Captain so…broken and lost. He was supposed to be strong, yet he kept falling apart when his team tried to help him…Steve just wasn’t used to help. Not without some strings attached, at the very least, or without it being a trick. 

The Captain glanced up, meeting Natasha’s eyes. He saw pain there. Pain: in the strongest of them. Because of him. He’d even hurt Natasha…Steve pressed the heel of his hand to his chest, where the ache was so sharp his breath stopped for a moment. It was more than he’d felt in weeks, really…he’d…he’d even hurt Nat, and she was so strong and…how could he have…what kind of Captain― what kind of _friend…?!_

As the others looked to Steve, he silently pulled his basketball shorts and boxer briefs up, idly noticing he’d bled nearly through the bandages. There were so many pink lines through the white fabric that pretty much the entire top of the bandages looked pink. Hm. Apparently he really had gone deeper than he’d thought or really meant to…oh well. At the sight Bruce inhaled sharply, and Tony glanced away. It was on both legs, even, and so many, from the look of it…it was worse than they’d expected. Dammit… 

The billionaire walked to Steve and wrapped a gentle arm around his broad shoulders, leading him to the door. Steve put his clothes back in place to cover the bandages. “C’mon, big guy, let’s get you down to medical so Bruce can patch you up…” Steve didn’t even try to object. His chest hurt so much, and he didn’t want to hurt anyone anymore, and he didn’t want Bruce or any of them to see, but what did it matter, and why couldn’t he just disappear already…? Would that be so horrible…?? No, it would be better, he knew…

Bruce followed Steve and Tony into the elevator and down to the medical floor. Clint and Natasha headed back to the gym to finish putting away _all_ the knives, and Thor headed to the common floor, lining up movies for them to watch. It was Saturday; movie night. They always had movie marathons together on Saturdays. 

Once down in the infirmary, Bruce had Steve sit on one of the beds and shove his shorts and boxer briefs up to his hips. He grabbed a first aid kit and set it on the bed next to the blonde, glancing idly to the Captain’s hand. Which was laced with Tony’s. Who was on the bed right behind Steve, chest to back, helping him keep his breathing steady. Presumably for moral support and comfort and all, but…well, really, Bruce wasn’t all that surprised by this development. His jealously of Tony, however, was a bit of a surprise. Bruce had had a thing for Steve, sure. Hell, everyone on the team did…he had a thing for the others too, but…jealousy?? Bruce shook his own feelings way. Now wasn’t the time.

The scientist has to take a couple deep breaths when he unwrapped Steve’s thighs. The cuts were dangerously deep…and there were so many. They covered the entire tops of his thighs…there were too many of them.

This had been a bad relapse. A very bad one. 

”These are dangerously deep, Steve. You nearly hit an artery…” Tony took a sharp breath as he heard that, and flinched very slightly when he glanced over Steve’s shoulder to take a look. Tony squeezed his eyes shut and rested his chin on Steve’s shoulder, not looking down. Steve shrugged, gently, so as not to jostle Tony too much. 

”Does…” Steve’s voice faded on him, trailing off quickly. He tried again. “Doesn’t matter…didn’t mean to, wasn’t…payin’ attention. But it doesn’t matter. S’fine. You don’t need ta bother cleaning it, Bruce.” His voice was tired and quiet again, like he barely had the energy to speak. Tony tried not to blow up at that, and instead forced himself to stay calm as Bruce threaded a needle. 

”It definitely matters, Steve. And they need stitches; they’re still bleeding, for God’s sake…! Shut up and let us help you, jeez…” 

”This isn’t gonna feel great on cuts this deep, sorry,” Bruce said, pouring rubbing alcohol on a cloth. Steve shrugged, waving it off. Bruce sighed and started cleaning, dabbing the cloth gently onto the top most cuts. Steve didn’t even flinch, not even when Bruce swiped to clean the excess blood away from between the cuts, or wiped to clean away what welled up continuously. The brunette glanced up at him, frowning. That Steve wasn’t even reacting to the surely nasty burning...

Bruce started stitching, cleaning the cuts repeatedly as he worked to get the blood that kept welling up. Steve still didn’t react, watching with seemingly no reaction, until Bruce got to the deepest cut. He flinched a little when he started stitching that one, earning a soothing rub on his chest from Tony. Steve sighed, closing his eyes and letting himself focus only on the strong, steady breathing behind him.

Ignoring the intense burning on his thigh and tearing pain of guilt and shame in his chest, this was kinda nice. 

”Whenever you feel like doing this again, the _second_ you want to, come to one of us. Any of us. Let us distract you or give you an alternative. Got it?” Bruce said, gentle but resolute. Steve met his eyes, noticing they were a lighter, softer brown than Tony’s. 

”…Don’t want to bother you so often…” Steve mumbled feebly. Tony scoffed lightly. 

”We want you to come to us. It’s never a bother. _You’re_ never a bother.” The billionaire’s tone left no room for argument.

Steve felt the tiniest spark of hope in him, praying that that was really true. But surely, it was just Tony being Tony…there was no way his team actually thought that…the fog suffocated the spark before it could take flame and truly warm Steve. He shivered a little. He hated being cold…why was it so cold…?

Tony rubbed the blonde’s shoulders, chasing away the phantom chill and hoping, just as Bruce was, that they’d gotten through to their Captain. “Promise us you’ll come to us when you want to relapse,” Bruce ordered gently. 

It took a moment for the words to even make sense to Steve, and another for him to answer. “…Okay…..…m’ sorry…needa be better for you all…” 

”You’re already amazing. You just need to get healthy, is all,” Tony said, speaking before he could think to make that sound a bit less feels-y. But oh well. It seemed it worked, as Steve relaxed a bit more in his arms and nodded a little, his breathing calm and steady. Tony was warm, it was nice… 

It didn’t take too long for Bruce to have both Steve’s legs stitched up, and he put a couple bandages over the worst ones before wrapping his legs. “Don’t walk unless you have to, you don’t want to stress these. Sorry I can’t give you painkillers…or anti-inflammatories.” Bruce said sheepishly.

Steve nodded, softly saying, “Thanks, Bruce. You didn’t have to―”

”Hush, it’s no trouble, I wanted to,” Bruce said, smiling softly as he cleaned up. Before he walked away he kissed Steve’s forehead, and looked a bit surprised by his own action. Steve and Bruce stared at each other for a moment, both shocked and even more so by the flutter in their stomachs from the sweet kiss. Bruce cleared his throat and put the supplies away. Not for the first time, he was thankful his darker skin tone helped hide his flush. Tony was smiling at the display of affection. He really needed to get the team to talk about this…he could see the looks everyone was shooting each other, and something really needed to be done about it.

“Now let’s go to movie night, I think today is Disney. Or maybe Pixar,” Brue said, ignoring the small elephant in the room. But boy, Steve sure looked adorable with those faintly rosy pink cheeks from the kiss....

Tony held Steve a little tighter when he moved to get up. “I wanted to ask Steve something before we go up for movies. You go ahead, we won’t be long,” Tony said, waving Bruce away. The scientist raised a brow, but nodded and headed into the elevator. 

Steve watched as Tony slid off the bed and came around to the front, standing between Steve’s legs. The blonde blinked up at him, noting how it was strange to look up slightly at Tony rather than down a bit, for a change. He watched Tony’s mouth open, about to say something, before the brunette closed it, seemingly at a loss for words. Before Steve could ask anything, Tony surged forward and kissed him hard, hand tangling in his hair and yanking his head where he wanted it. Steve made a surprised noise in the back of his throat and gripped Tony’s waist as the brunette leaned forward, pushing Steve back to a bit of an angle. He kissed back, but not as desperately as Tony. 

Tony pulled away briefly, trailing searing kisses and rough nips along Steve’s neck. The blonde gasped softly, his head falling back and to the side, giving Tony access almost without hesitation. Between marking Steve’s throat up, Tony was gasping and murmuring, “Stupid idiot…” A sucking kiss. “Scared the hell out of me,” a hard bite. “And Bruce kissing you was adorable,” A gentle kiss over Steve’s pulse point. “Don’t ever do that again…” Another hickey sucked below Steve’s ear, earning a breathless sigh. 

Steve could barely keep up, the fog was making everything sluggish and far away. But when Tony sucked his bottom lip between his own again, the blonde felt a spark of feeling again. This felt…right. It felt _good._

Voice a little raspy and hand gripping Tony’s hip tightly, Steve breathed, “Tone…I―I’m sorr―ahh!” Steve ended up hissing in a breath as Tony jacked him off through his shorts and boxers. The blonde leaned back, trying to catch up with the brunette. “Wha…??”

Tony just shoved Steve’s clothes out of the way enough to wrap his hand around the Captain’s cock. The billionaire paused to get his own cock out and spit, then took them both in hand. He stroked quickly, earning a surprised gasp from Steve. He was fully hard quickly though, with that beautifully calloused hand on him. 

”Shut up, you―uhhn…you could’ve fukin', died, you idiot…!” Tony said between pants. Steve was staring at him, still hardly keeping up and wondering why the rough pace of Tony’s hand felt so damn _good._

”So…rry?” Steve tried. He reached down to help Tony stroke them, groaning when their hands overlapped. 

Tony swore breathlessly. “Your hand is big, Jesus…” 

Steve looked down, noticing how much paler he was than Tony. He was longer too, though not by much, but Tony was thicker. Noticeably. Steve moaned softly when he remembered how good that cock had felt splitting him open wide. And no wonder, Tony was _hung_. Steve had grown bigger there too, with the serum, though not by a ton. He’d never been small _there,_ (much to Bucky’s amusement, he’d never heard the end of his… disproportion). Both of them were uncut, though… Steve started to play with Tony’s foreskin, and he earned a hot mouth licking its way into his own. Both of them moaned into it. Steve was leaking more precum than Tony too, slicking the way. 

The two didn’t last long like that. Tony because Steve is fucking _hot,_ okay? And _alive,_ and _here_. And Steve because their hands were so _wet_ because of him, and the way their cocks felt together was probably why people thought gays were going to hell. Fucking _sinful…_

Tony came first, biting hard on Steve’s lower lip as he came. Steve moaned as he felt wet heat slick the way even more. Apparently Tony liked to bite as he came, mmm…Steve let go of the brunette’s surely sensitive cock, and Tony batted Steve’s own had away from himself. The billionaire jerked Steve off quickly, twisting his wrist whenever he got to the head of his cock. Steve caught Tony’s eyes as the brunette watched him, and neither could look away. When Tony slowed his hand slightly and gripped harder, Steve came with an uneven gasp and a rough groan. Tony stroked him through it, looking down to watch then back up to watch Steve’s face. 

Once he’d wrung every drop he could from Steve, Tony moved his hand up and brushed his wet fingers against Steve’s red lips. “Clean me up,” Tony said lowly. 

Dazed blue eyes met Tony’s, but disobeying didn’t even cross Steve’s mind. He flicked his tongue out and licked their come off Tony’s fingers, then took his fingers into his mouth, sucking hard. His eyes didn’t leave the brunette’s as he basically sucked his fingers off. He realized as he teased Tony that he’d yet to suck that gorgeous cock of his…why was that?? That needed to be fixed. But not now, Tony would need a break.

Steve cleaned his own dirty hand when Tony pulled it up to his mouth, and then kissed the brunette again. Finally, after a few minutes and a thankfully clean cloth near them, they did their pants back up and managed to calm down fully. Steve cleared his throat. 

”Not that I’m not…happy, with that development, but where…did it come from, exactly??” the blonde asked as they walked to the elevator. 

Tony noticed Steve’s limping and noticeably painful steps, and took some of his weight. When the Captain tried to protest Tony glared. “Shut up, I’m helping; get over it…just nee―wanted to feel you.”

Tony Stark didn’t do emotions, he’d just been horny…and glad Steve was okay.

A pause. “…Sorry for getting a bit carried away. You could’ve stopped me.”

Steve smiled softly, reading between the lines as he often did when Tony was involved. He stopped them to kiss Tony, sweet and long. They both pulled away with tiny smiles quirking their lips. Then he let the billionaire help him to the common floor and into the living room where the others were. By the time Steve and Tony made it back upstairs the Avengers were scattered on couches and beanbags, or in Nat’s case on the floor, waiting for the two to get back to start the first movie, _Frozen._

Tony grabbed some snacks from the kitchen, and brought it back out. Steve helped, insisting his legs were fine when Clint pointed out he shouldn’t be walking.

”Did you take that IQ test yet Steve?” Clint asked curiously. He was sitting backwards on the couch, his head hanging off it and his feet up on the back of it where his back should’ve been. Steve blinked as he handed everyone bowls for chips and dip. 

”Oh…yeah, but I think it must’ve been wrong. It placed me in the genius category based on my age. And yes, Tony, I used twenty-six as my age! Not ninety-six!” They heard a cackle form the kitchen. 

”Mine was one-forty-three, but that was when I was twenty! I took it again earlier today. One-seventy!” Bruce whistled. Even Clint had to look impressed. 

”Alright, Stark, I admit you’re not quite as stupid as you act,” Natasha said. Tony flipped her off through the cutout between the kitchen and living room. Thor looked rather confused by the conversation, but was content to listen. Bruce looked to Steve. 

”Mine’s one-sixty-seven. What was yours?” 

Steve turned a faint pink. “Um….one-fifty-eight. But that can’t be right!” Tony “oooo-ed” as he came back out and sat next to Thor. 

”That’s impressive, Cap! See, your father was completely wrong!”

Halfway through putting the disc in and setting up the TV after a few fumbles, Steve stopped and glanced back in surprise. He blinked a couple times. “I…” But that number proved it, didn’t it?? “I guess so…the serum must hav―”

”Accentuates the good and the bad. You were already really smart, so shut up,” Clint interrupted. Steve huffed a small laugh and headed to the couch. 

”Fine, fine, I’m sort of smart.” He paused and then smiled. He loved his team. 

Steve sat next to Bruce on the couch. He gave the scientist a soft smile and put his arm around his head, on the back of the couch. Bruce looked tense at first, but barely ten minutes into the movie he leaned against Steve’s side. He was happy the blonde was okay too. They all were. Bruce had been debating talking to Natasha about…this thing between all of them. He knew they were all aware of it, but no one knew how to approach a six-way crush. But for now…well, Steve was comfortable. And warm. And safe. 

They’d figure things out, and everything would be okay. Good, actually. Everything would be really good.


	9. Another New Bond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve takes Oliver's advice, and tries to start talking about his feelings. He decides to start with Bruce. He's the most calm and collected, after all. Surely, Bruce will listen and they can talk and work things out. 
> 
> ...They do work things out. 
> 
> In a way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for waiting! This chapter is a nice one, but be ready for the next, because I’m gonna get mean to these poor guys again xD 
> 
> And thank you again for reviews, they’re so amazing to read!

Steve was pissed.

Tony was ignoring him.

Okay, maybe not ignoring, but he hadn’t come out of his lab, and only said shirt hellos to Steve, and he was…acting like nothing had happened! Steve was beginning to regret ever sleeping with the billionaire. Tony had said after he and Pepper were through that he was done with sleeping around all the time, but apparently sex was still meaningless to him! To Steve though… it was about trust. And a connection. He had that with Tony, he’d let the brunette order him around and show him a little more about that whole “subbing” thing….but to Tony it hadn’t meant as much, apparently. 

”I mean, I don’t care, but…!” Steve sighed as he finished his rant to Oliver over the phone. He was sitting on the landing pad for Tony’s suit. “Fine, I care. It stings. But whatever.”

Oliver hummed, on a walk and enjoying Steve’s company as he exercised. “Look man, I can tell Tony means a lot more to you than I did, s―” 

Steve groaned, hiding his face in his hand. “I’m so _sorry_ I shouldn’t have used you like that, you’re a good friend…!”

”Hey, hey, it’s fine! I get it! I don’t mind having an awesome one night stand then a friendship with Captain America himself!” 

Steve sputtered. “That’s just ridiculous, I mean….” He sighed again. “The point is: what the hell do I do??”

Oliver laughed. “Steve, you have a crush on your teammates. Tell them. They like you too, I’m pretty sure. Maybe ask the Black W― no, she’s cold and scary. Maybe Bruce or Thro would be good to talk to about it. I mean, I have a couple polyamorous friends, though I’ve never met anyone in a relationship more than four. But I think y―”

”Hold up, _what?”_

”…Right, from the forties. Hell, it’s still not common nowadays…basically polyamory is like…you dating multiple people. All of you dating each other. A big cuddle puddle.” Oliver was pretty proud of himself for that explanation. 

Steve was quiet for a moment. “You….can do that?? But…everyone would have to like each other and want that…”

”Yeah, and then you get hot threesomes. Or in your case, orgies.”

Steve made a very undignified noise, turning bright red. “But! That! Wha―! I! You! They can’t! I mean! But!” 

Oliver cracked up. “You’re fucking adorable! Okay, look, here’s what you gotta talk to each of them about…”

Steve’s blush didn’t fade the entire time Oliver talked. 

******

Steve was fidgeting. 

Bruce enjoyed having him down here, the Captain often came down and just read or drew. He said he liked the calm environment (well, when no experiment was exploding) and Bruce’s classical music. And Bruce liked the companionable quiet and softness between them. He liked being the person Steve went to so he wasn’t alone, and to be the one to talk his ear off about his projects when Steve needed a distraction from his thoughts. Steve didn’t talk to him about said thoughts, or the urges Bruce knew he sometimes distracted Steve from, but…it was still nice. Bruce felt they were closer, had a mutual understanding. And he’d managed to keep his feelings to himself and not impulsively kiss Steve again. 

And Steve had been okay the past few days, giving numbers like five and four and even a six one time, when Thor had made them an Asgardian dish for dinner. But right now, Steve was fidgeting as he watched Bruce work, and it was making the scientist rather nervous. 

”Alright,” Bruce said, putting his notes down for now and turning to face Steve, “let’s go.” 

He was lost in thought, and didn’t come out of it until Bruce set two cups of tea down, sat next to Steve, and shook him by his shoulder a bit. 

”Alright Cap, spill.”

Steve stammered for a moment. He took a sip of tea to try and calm down and give himself a moment to gather his thoughts. But all he did was yelp when he burned his tongue on the scalding liquid. Bruce tried to stifle a laugh, but couldn’t hide his smile. “Yeah, that was boiling about forty seconds ago, b―Steve.” The ‘baby’ had almost slipped, Jesus, where had that come from?! He’d called Tony that too by accident earlier today! He needed to get ahold of these stupid crushes…

”I. Um. Ollie suggested I talk to you. Um. First. Probably. So. I thought that um. Maybe. I could. Um…” Steve ran his hands down his face. _Just do it, grow some balls,_ he told himself. 

Steve took a breath. “You can just tell me how dumb it is and I won’t bring it up again, I’m sorry. But…I…….erm. I fancy you.” His face flared bright red in seconds, as he watched Bruce’s brows shoot to his hairline. Steve looked down, peeking at Bruce through his lashes shyly. “I-I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this these days, but…you’re kind and…shy, and cute, and strong, and you’ve helped me so much, and you’re a good friend, and…” 

He trailed off, but Bruce merely leaned back, trying to comprehend all that. “I….but aren’t you and Tony together…?” 

Steve frowned. “I told him not to go bragging about it…!!” 

Bruce chuckled. “Yeah, he did anyways. But knowing Tony it was a one night stand, then…well, then, that works.” He was ecstatic, internally. He had his chance, now…! Little did either of them know that for Tony, that hadn’t been a one night stand at all. 

Before Steve could say anything else, in answer, Bruce pulled Steve towards him by the back of his neck and sealed their lips together. The Captain grunted softly, eyes fluttering shut. He cupped Bruce’s cheek and couldn’t believe such a kind man could actually return his feelings. God, he was acting like a love-struck teenager…! Steve soon forgot about his embarrassment when Bruce’s lips moved over his. He was experienced, and a fucking _tease,_ Steve soon found out. Bruce kept kissing him soft and sweet, and long enough that Steve kept trying to deepen it just a little…but right when he did Bruce would pull away and give him a couple shorter kisses, then go back in for a longer one. Steve was intoxicated by the way Bruce kissed, and he hadn’t even gotten to know what the man really tasted like yet.

Steve pulled away finally. Not because he needed to breathe, the serum allowed him to hold his breath for ten minutes. But because he was going to take this too far if Bruce kept that up. Bruce smiled softly, then swung his leg around to sit in Steve’s lap, straddling him. The Captain turned bright pink, hands automatically holding onto Bruce’s hips. 

”Bruce…shouldn’t we, um, wait before― ahhh…” Steve trailed into a sigh when Bruce ground his hips down, swiveling them. The brunette leaned down to bite at Steve’s ear lobe. 

”You know…I _would_ take this slow. But the thing is, I’m the jealous type. And knowing Oliver then Tony had you before me…” He growled faintly, biting a mark just below Steve’s ear. The blonde shivered and gripped his hips tighter. 

”So no, Steve. I don’t want to take this slow. I want you tied up beneath me and begging, and I wanted it weeks ago.” Steve was at a loss for words, but Bruce could feel his reaction against his own. Surely, he shouldn’t…this was still his teammate, and Tony…but Tony had made it clear he didn’t want more with Steve. And Bruce did…wait. 

Steve pulled Bruce away. His bright blue eyes were slightly dilated, but he still frowned in seriousness. “I don’t want another one night stand,” he said plainly. “I don’t want…friends with benefits. I want…but I can’t, I want…” His face flared again, this time bright red. This wasn’t how he’d wanted to approach this… “I want all of you. I can’t choose, I don’t…”

Bruce’s brows rose in surprise again. He saw how conflicted Steve seemed though, and rubbed down his shoulders. “Relax. I know. I can tell everyone needs to talk about this. We will soon, okay? I’ll talk to Tony, then we three can talk to the others…” He chuckled. “Or you could go sleep with all of us once then we could talk. Since that’s apparently how this is going.” 

Steve laughed, making Bruce jiggle a little. He loved the man’s dry humor. “I think I’ll go with the first option…” His face turned shy but….sly, too. “So what was this about tying me up~?” 

Steve had thought Tony’s pupils had been hard to keep track of, but Bruce’s eyes were even darker to begin with. They were just all black and desire now, that was all. The brunette leaned down towards his ear again. “Do you know what a dom is?” 

Steve had looked up “BDSM” at Oliver’s request, and let the redhead explain some concepts to him such as doms, subs, bondage, limits, safe words, and talking out agreements and rules. He swallowed. 

”Uh-huh.” _Wow, good one, Rogers. Way to be sexy._

Bruce smirked, though Steve couldn’t see it. “Good. I’m a dom. From what Tony told me, you’re a hell of a sub. Or at least a switch…so what do you think? Wanna play?” 

The Captain should’ve been annoyed at Tony for telling details of their private moments, but…for some reason, it was hot. As if he’d given Bruce ammo for when it was the scientist’s turn to take Steve apart…Steve nodded quickly. “Wanna… make you feel good. Tell me how to…?”

God, this man was achingly sweet. Bruce was already forming a plan in his mind for what to do with Steve, but for now, he rocked his hips into his and kissed him again. This time, when Steve tried to deepen it, Bruce let him. The brunette kissed like he had all the time in the world, relaxed and leisurely and heated. Steve kept letting out pleased sighs into the kiss, running his hands up and down Bruce’s back and stomach, around his hips, and into his hair occasionally. Neither of them knew how long they kissed like that, letting their tongues taste each other’s and sucking gently. Bruce finally took Steve’s wrists and guided them back to his ass, encouraging the Captain to touch more. It was adorable, how Steve was still being so polite. 

Steve hummed, biting gently on Bruce’s bottom lip as he cupped the scientist’s ass and helped him grind into him. He squeezed a little and couldn’t help but smile into the kiss when he finally got a soft groan out of Bruce. Seemed Steve was going to have to work to get more sexy noises out of him…and the blonde was more than okay with that. 

Their kisses and grinding gradually grew more rough and passionate. It was a slow build, nice and easy and making both their heads spin in the best way. Steve pulled away briefly. “Do we need to go slower so Hulk doesn’t get upset?” he asked, considerate but not afraid.

Bruce looked at him, and smiled a little. Steve couldn’t stop looking at the man’s reddened lips now. “No, as long as my heart rate doesn’t spike really fast, I’m fine. Now let’s go to the bed…” The brunette started to get up, but gasped softly when Steve simply lifted him. The blonde smirked a little as he carried Bruce, hands still cupping his ass and allowing Bruce to wrap his legs around Steve’s waist. The blonde kissed Bruce’s neck as he walked, only bumping them into a doorframe once before he crawled over Bruce on his bed, both of them chuckling. 

”You couldn’t have stopped for two minutes to watch where you were going?” Bruce asked, amused. 

”You’re skin is dark and pretty. I gotta work to make sure I leave enough marks. So no,” Steve responded, then went right back down to darken the mark he’d started. Bruce groaned very softly as Steve sucked hard. When the blonde finally pulled away he smiled. Now he could see it properly and clearly against Bruce’s skin. “There, now it’s dark enough.”

Bruce laughed and gently punched Steve’s chest. He pushed him away a little so he could stand. “And people say you’re as wholesome as apple pie! But Tony had it right when we all first met; you’re a little shit.” Steve mock-gasped, holding a hand to his chest as if he was hurt. Bruce scoffed. “Oh, hush! We all love you for it, you big lug.”

Steve’s chest did a little flutter after Bruce said that, and his cheeks hurt a little from how wide he was smiling. He’d always gotten along with Bruce so easily, and this was…nice. Really nice. Still though…love? He loved his team…and apparently they loved him, which was still hard to believe. But was he _in_ love with them…?! Was that why he kept pining over all of them like he was in one of those terrible new sitcom show things??

The Captain was brought out of his wandering thoughts when Bruce came back, dropping a small pile of items on the bed. Steve blinked at the pile, but didn’t stop to actually look at what the scientist had grabbed. He was sitting on the edge of the bed now, looking up at Bruce. Their eyes met for a moment, and then Bruce moved forward to kiss Steve. He kept it short and sweet that time. 

”Alright, now before we start…I want to do a scene with you.” Steve was already frowning, so Bruce explained: “A bit of a…um…well, I’ll act different than normal. I want to be strict with you, and a little…mean. We can stick to the traffic light system, but I like to use ‘red’ to stop whatever I’m doing at the time. Pick a word that will stop everything, okay? Anything you’d like.” 

Steve hummed, feeling boneless from all the lazy, (and dare he think) loving kissing. He was always relaxed with Bruce, and now was no exception. “You can use all those words too…so…a word for both of us, hm…how about ‘Shawarma’?” 

Bruce’s eyes widened very slightly, but then his expression melted into a soft smile. “You’re a good sub already if you realize I need those words too. Safe words are for everyone involved, not just subs…And yeah, that works. Ready to start, Steve?” 

Steve nodded. “Well of course! Oh, um, yeah, Bruce. Go ahead.”

The brunette’s eyes immediately got a bit more…dangerous. “Good. Now, I want you to learn how to behave for me. If you’re good, you’ll get a reward. If not…” One dark finger ran down a pale chest. “…I’ll see how well this skin turns red for me.” 

Steve shivered, feeling his already mostly hard cock get even harder. Shit, this was already pretty hot…he mentally thanked Oliver for his introduction into this whole BDSM thing. 

”Okay,” Steve said, liking the sound of that. He gasped softly when Bruce raked his nails the rest of the way down his chest. It made him try to move away from the sting automatically, but he couldn’t hide the way his back arched towards it as well. Bruce smirked a little. 

”That won’t do at all. I want my _pet_ to address me correctly. Try again, boy,” Bruce said firmly, leaning closer to Steve and tugging his hair back enough to keep the blonde where he wanted him. Steve swallowed hard. Damn Tony for telling Bruce what he’d liked…dammit, Steve hadn’t even known he _did_ like half the stuff Tony had done!! He was still learning what he liked, honestly. 

”Ah…pet? Um…sir?” Oliver had liked that…

A sharp tug to Steve’s hair had his back bent back, and Bruce hovering over him in a way that oozed dominance and control. “That’s right. My pet. I’m gonna train you to be well-behaved for me. You like the sound of that?” Bruce was still speaking in a firm tine, but softly. He could see and hear the inexperience in Steve, so he was taking things slow. It was beautiful, in a way, to slowly map out what would work for both of them. And already the thought of teaching Steve all this, and teaching him how best to act for Bruce…it had the scientist aching in his boxers. 

Steve nodded as much as he could with his hair is Bruce’s fist. The brunette hummed. “Good…hm, maybe you’d like a pet name. Kitten, bunny, or puppy, mm?” Steve’s eyes widened a little, and he turned pink. Bruce chuckled. “Yeah, you like that too…well, another time, we can play with that.” Steve nodded, and Bruce continued. “For now, I’m gonna torture you and make you beg... Lay on your back for me.” 

The second Bruce’s hand let go of his hair, Steve scooted backwards and laid flat, his head resting on one of the pillows. Bruce stripped then, letting Steve watch and smiling when the blonde’s eyes trailed over him hungrily. He grabbed something from by Steve’s feet and held it up. It was rope. A deep, pretty blue. 

”I want to tie you up. You won’t be able to move your hands or feet unless I let you. Color?” Bruce asked, coming to stand beside the bed now. 

The Captain nibbled his bottom lip. “I _could_ break it though…oh, um, green, sir.”

Bruce kissed Steve again briefly, then pulled away to help pull Steve’s shirt and pants off. He rubbed the blonde’s cock through his boxer briefs for a minute, enjoying the soft moans and pleased sighs he got. The brunette stripped Steve the rest of the way. Then he spoke as he lifted Steve’s hands and began to loop the rope around his wrists and the headboard. “No, Tony reinforced them for me. Not that I planned this, they were actually for me. But anyways…” Bruce finished Steve’s hands, leaving them crossed and bound above his head. The brunette’s gaze was heated as he took in the sight. He leaned down and tugged on the ropes so Steve could feel how he was tied as he murmured, “You’re to call me Dr. Banner, Master, or Sire. Got it, pet?”

Steve inhaled sharply when he felt how little movement his hands now had. He couldn’t look away from the intense dark eyes above him. “Okay, Master…” He pulled with his strength to test the ropes, and blushed again when he found he really was _bound._ He couldn’t break them…! The Captain didn’t really know why that made heat shoot through him, but…God, it did. 

Steve found his breathing got a little quicker as Bruce went on to tie his ankles to the bedposts. The blonde was spread eagle now, and frowned a little. Bruce would have a hard time fucking him like this…well, Steve had assumed Bruce wanted things that way, since he was a dom. But...?

Steve gasped and then groaned when Bruce crawled onto the bed and licked a hot stripe up the underside of his cock. The blonde looked down to watch, loving the nearly black eyes that met his own as Bruce took the head into his mouth and sucked. Hard. 

”A-ahh! Ah, Bruc― Oh!” Steve gasped again, louder this time, when Bruce nipped lightly. He felt his brain fall into that easy space though, where he just listened and obeyed and just worked to please. So Steve quickly corrected himself after the small flash of pain, “Sire, sorry― mmm…” He trailed into a soft moan when Bruce rewarded him, taking him down further into his mouth. 

The brunette sucked very time he drew off Steve’s cock, bobbing his head slowly. He stroked what wasn’t in his mouth lightly with one hand, the other holding something out of Steve’s view. Bruce hummed a little, then took Steve all the way down, gagging but quickly forcing himself not to. Steve groaned deep in his chest when he saw and felt that, swearing under his breath. “Fuck… Dr. Banner, ah…”

Bruce would’ve smiled of he could’ve. Instead, he pulled off just enough to clamp a cock ring around Steve. The blonde’s hips jerked up a little and he tugged on his hands. But he didn’t get far, only managing to gape down at the scientist between his legs and the ring around the base of his swollen, now wet cock. 

“Nooo,” Steve groaned, letting his head fall back onto the bed. Jesus, he’d lose his mind before they were through like this…!

Bruce licked his lips and moved up, reaching behind himself for only a moment to slick his fingers with the small tub of lube he’d tossed on the bed. “Oh, yes,” he corrected. “You’re not coming until I let you, baby.” Steve moaned outright at the name, his cock twitching. Bruce’s brow raised, as did the corner of his mouth. “Oh? Someone likes that~”

Steve kept his head turned away, cheeks now a darker pink color and chest heaving a little more. Bruce frowned lightly, pausing to lean over the blonde and kiss his cheek. “Color.”

”Green, green,” Steve answered quickly, turning back. Bruce bit his lip at the sight of those dilated, darkened baby blues. He’d been worried for a moment, but…

”Ah, I see. You’re just shy, hm? Like dirty talk, but embarrassed to hear it? I’m gonna have fun trying out a little humiliation with you, pet…” Bruce sank down on two of his fingers, liking the initial burn of a little too much. He groaned sharply, louder than he had so far. 

”Y…yes, Master.” Steve immediately looked down to watch Bruce stretch himself open, licking his lips. 

Bruce chuckled a little and turned around so Steve would have a nice view. He scissored and thrusted his fingers gently while he sucked a little hickey into the side of Steve’s knee. The Captain moaned softly, wishing those were _his_ fingers stretching Bruce open. 

“Master…let me,” he offered. God, it still made his chest do funny things to call someone that…it fit Bruce better than it did Tony, though. It was…heady, calling someone that when _he_ was the one in charge, technically. The Captain. But like this, with them…he wasn’t in charge anymore. It was…it was good. Steve didn’t understand why it made him hot, but he wasn’t about to ponder it when he had such a beautiful man above him like this. 

Bruce added a third finger, making himself curse and go a little faster. “No. I love you helpless for me. Can do whatever I want with you, and all you can do is be a good boy for me.” 

Bruce’s words and rough, lower voice made Steve’s cock twitch hard, earning a surprised little noise form the blonde. The scientist chuckled, though it turned into a moan when he started opening himself up faster. He thrust his fingers quickly, then turned back around to face Steve. He held the Captain’s cock steady, but didn’t sink down on him just yet. 

”Gonna beg for me, pet?” Bruce taunted, looking positively devious.

Steve was still baffled by this side of the gentle kind Dr. Banner. He arched his hips up as much as he could, eager to feel how slick and hot Bruce was. “Please…” 

Bruce reached down and pinched one of Steve’s nipples hard. The blonde arched his back with a tiny cry, eyes squeezing shut. “You can do better than that, boy. C’mon, beg for it. Or I won’t let you come at _all.”_

The Captain swore under his breath. He could feel the soft heat of Bruce’s ass against the tip of his cock, and it was driving him mad…! “Please Sir― Sire. Master, c’mon, please, I want…want you. Wanna feel you, please…”

Bruce hummed and sank down. Steve groaned, his head falling back. He groaned louder though, out of frustration, when Bruce stopped. Only the head of his cock was being squeezed by that slick heat, and Steve needed _more…!_

”Good start…mmmh, but you can do better, Steve. One more time for me, ‘cause you beg so pretty,” Bruce urged. He was flushed too, though it wasn’t quite as noticeable as it was on Steve. But to the blonde, it was still sexy as hell to see the normally reserved scientist above him like this. 

”Lemme…I wanna fuck you, Bru― Master. Please, you’re…” Steve blushed badly. Bruce chuckled. 

”Go on, I want to hear it.”

Steve cursed him mentally, for wanting to see him so flustered trying to dirty talk. “You feel…so good. Please, I want…more, please, Sire.”

Bruce started sinking down more, very slowly. Steve gasped and flexed in his restraints. “Good boy,” Bruce murmured. He moaned softly when he felt Steve’s cock twitch inside him from the praise. “Fuck, that’s…mmn. C’mon pet, louder for me.”

”God, Bruce…! Faster, please, I need…!” Steve flexed harder, even though he got nowhere. He was losing it fast, the sight of his cock disappearing so damn _slowly…_

Bruce leaned down and kissed Steve deeply. As he did he pressed a little faster until Steve was fully buried in him. The brunette swiveled his hips, and Steve gasped into the kiss. Moaning softly, Bruce lifted his hips and let himself fall again. Steve was thrusting up as much as he could to meet Bruce thrust for thrust. Their tongues were tangling and licking messily, teeth biting and clacking. Neither cared how messy the kiss was, just needing to taste the other. Steve could barely think, so engrossed in how fucking _good_ Bruce felt. The tightness around his cock, the slide of their sweaty skin, the slight scrape of Bruce’s chest hair against his own smooth one, the soft tickle of Bruce’s curls against his face as Bruce ducked to kiss along his cheek and neck…it was slow, and it was heady, and Steve was fucking lost to it.

Bruce sped up only slightly, biting down on Steve’s neck hard to muffle his moan. Steve merely gasped and arched, trying to move or grab or _anything,_ but he was thoroughly stuck. Bruce smirked. “Mine. Right― ahhh... where I want ya…”

Blown baby blues looked into Bruce’s near black ones, and didn’t look away. Steve’s hips were still moving as much as they could in the ropes, making their movements smooth once they found their rhythm. Bruce’s eyes fluttered shut as he started slamming down harder, before he looked back to Steve’s. The blonde looked down to the gorgeous, dark cock bouncing below him. The tip kept tapping his abdomen, leaving a tiny wet spot. Steve licked his lips, and met Bruce’s eyes again when the brunette groaned deep in his chest. 

”Wanna touch you,” Steve breathed, knowing he couldn’t last much longer. 

Bruce managed a smile, his lip near white between his teeth. “No,” he said lowly. The tiny whine that left Steve made Bruce clench around him, which in turn made Steve gasp. 

”Uhnnn… no, gonna mark you instead, boy. You’re _mine.”_ Bruce growled, voice low and rougher than Steve had ever heard. It made him hot all over, but it also made him relax. To hear such a…commanding tone, so roughly confident…Steve instinctively relaxed into it. He didn’t stop to think of why that was, he simply enjoyed it.

He enjoyed it even more when Bruce fumbled behind himself for a moment, then wrapped his own slick hand around his cock. Steve watched the dark red head slide in and out of the top of Bruce’s fist, and moaned raggedly as it made the brunette clench and flutter around him. 

”Bruce…Bruce…ahn― AH!” Steve jerked and cried out when Bruce twisted his nipple cruelly. He whimpered softly as the pain shoved him right to the edge, so close but not quite there yet. 

”Bad boy~” Bruce cooed, still twisting his wrist around his cock. His voice was still dark and dangerous, but also ragged with how close he was. “What’s my name?” He demanded. 

Steve merely groaned, the cock ring making his dick ache and his gut tighten in need. 

Bruce tsk-ed. He reached behind himself, letting go of himself to hold himself up and feather his fingers around the band constricting Steve’s cock. Steve moaned loudly that time and slammed his eyes shut, feeling Bruce’s fingers against his rim as Steve stretched him wide and slid in and out. 

”You’re gonna ask to come. Properly. Or you won’t get to.”

Steve’s eyes flew back to Bruce’s, his mouth open and red from rough kisses. He licked his lips again, then swore as Bruce did that swivel thing with his hips once again. It didn’t take him long after that to give in. No matter how far down his chest his blush traveled. 

”Pl…please, Master.”

He whined, pulling on the restraints hard when he saw Bruce merely raise a brow expectantly.

”Please let me come, Master…! Please, I― ahhhn…!” Steve trailed off, groaning helplessly as Bruce sped up again. 

But he gasped in relief when he felt the pressure around his cock disappear. He heard the slick sounds of Bruce jerking off start up again, then felt Bruce’s lips brush ever-so-lightly against his own. 

”Good boy, Steve.”

The quiet, low tone and softness in the words sounded so _Bruce…_ Steve cried out and came barely a second after he heard the praise. Bruce gasped and moaned when he came moments later, marking Steve’s stomach in splatters of white. He kept stroking himself and bouncing gently, to ride them both through it. Steve wasn’t sure how long they rode that high together, but when they were both trying to catch their breaths, it seemed like they’d been in that little world for hours.

Steve made a soft noise when Bruce gently rose, letting Steve slip out of him. The scientist let out a sigh, sitting on Steve’s lap now and leaning down to kiss him. Steve met Bruce for the lazy, languid kiss. As they kissed the brunette slowly reached up. He tugged and fiddled blindly until Steve felt the rope slacken. He pulled and ignored the loose rope now draped around his arms, moving to wrap his arms around Bruce as they kissed. He ran his hand through Bruce’s hair, marveling at how soft it was. 

By the time they stopped kissing, their lips were tingling. Steve’s felt normal after only a few moments though, and he cursed the serum silently. Bruce licked his still tingling lip sand he slithered down to Steve’s legs, undoing those ropes too. He shoved all the rope off the bed, along with the lube, and then laid back on Steve’s chest. The blonde started drawing lazy pattern son Bruce’s back, holding around his waist with is other hand. Bruce was drawing tiny, soothing circles on one of Steve’s pecs. They laid like that for nearly an hour, relaxed and listening to the other’s breathing. Eventually though, Bruce sat up.

”I’m gonna go make tea and get you some snacks. Go draw a bath for us, okay? I’ll make sure you come down easy. I never skip aftercare.”

Steve smiled softly. Bruce was back to his usual soft self, not quite so stern and rough like before. The difference had been sexy as hell, but he liked this Bruce too. “Aftercare…” he didn’t remember that word from his reading…but then again Bruce had pretty much melted any brain cells Steve had. 

Bruce blinked, then frowned deeply. “Did Tony not give you aftercare?! Or Oliver?! I’m gonna kill them both…” He sighed and stood, tugging Steve up too. “Our scene wasn’t that rough, but I still want to bring you fully back nice and easy. Take care of you and feed you and treat you good. You still seem a bit…spacey. Not subspace spacey though…you ever been to subspace?”

Steve shook his head. He just felt really relaxed and warm and happy and satiated. “Ollie took care of me after, though. And Tony and I just passed out, so I don’t think it’s his fault. But that sounds nice, Bruce, thank you.” Steve smiled easily and relaxed. Bruce grinned outright, loving that he’d put such a happy smile on that gorgeous face. “And no, I read about it, but I’ve never felt anything like that. Well, nothing like what subspace is apparently like.”

Bruce nodded. The thought of getting Steve to drop into subspace for the first time…God, he’d be so gorgeous…The brunette shoved those thoughts away for now. The team needed to talk first. Then talk about boundaries, If Steve _wanted_ to try and get to subspace, then…well, then Bruce would _gladly_ help. “Okay. Well, go get the bath ready. Put in the blue salts and oil, it’ll help. I’ll be there in five.” 

Steve gave the brunette another kiss, a gentle one. Bruce kissed back and smiled, brushing his hand along Steve’s cheek. Then they parted. Within five minutes Steve had the bath ready and was debating putting the blue bubbles in too. He gave in to the urge, and looked sheepish as Bruce walked in with a tray of tea and fruit and chocolates. 

Bruce blinked at the large bubble bath. “…Bubbles?” Steve rubbed the back of his neck bashfully. 

”Ah, well, we didn’t get baths really, back in my day, much less hot ones with bubbles and salts, and bubbles are cool, so I thought maybe ah, but if you don’t want them it’s okay, I just didn’t think you’d mind, and― ”

Bruce cut Steve off with a finger pressed against his lips. He kissed the blonde quickly, setting the tray on the edge of the large tub. “Steve, I like bubbles too. I’m fine with them, so don’t worry.” 

Steve nodded, a tiny smile on his lips. Bruce kisses his cheek and urged him into the tub. He got in next, leaning back against Steve’s broad chest. The blonde groaned softly as the salts helped relax his muscles, then hugged Bruce around the waist and nuzzled into his collar. 

”This salt stuff is amazin’,” Steve sighed happily. Bruce nodded. 

”For sure. Glad you like it.” They eased into a comfortable quiet then. Bruce kept grabbing a piece of fruit or chocolate and holding them behind himself for Steve. The blonde kept doing the same for Bruce. At one point Steve accidentally smushed a raspberry against Bruce’s cheek instead of his mouth, earning a chuckle. Steve laughed too, loving how Bruce’s chest felt rumbling against his own. Bruce returned the favor though, thinking Steve’s mouth was where it used to be. When in reality Steve had nuzzled down into Bruce’s neck again, and the next thing he knew there was a piece of chocolate being smeared along his upper lip and nose. 

Bruce turned to look and this time burst into giggles. Steve did as well, splashing Bruce a little. “You did that on purpose!”

”I didn’t, promise!”

”No, you wanted to get back at me! But mine was _actually_ an accident!”

”Hush!”

”You hush!”

The two kept laughing even as Bruce grabbed the soap and started gently washing Steve down. He flicked bubbles at the Captain, who promptly flicked them right back. They ended up in a splashing fight, which ended in soaking their tray of food, which ended in more accusations, which ended in spilling the tea in the water too. 

Steve was laughing so hard by the end of it that there were tears in his eyes. Bruce was laughing hard too, though sobered when he saw how purely _happy_ Steve was. It was a rare sight, but…God, it was a beautiful one. He ‘d gladly have a bath like this with Steve every day if it meant he could see that smile so often. It was wrinkling the corners of Steve’s eyes, and his eyes were such a bright blue, and he looked so much younger, too….no, Steve just looked his age, now. Bruce forgot, usually, that Steve was only in his twenties. He acted older, form his experiences. It was no surprise, really. But now….now he was just purely Steve, and it was a gorgeous sight that Bruce was elated to be the cause of. 

They got out after that, even though Steve said that bathing in tea was probably some kind of remedy somewhere, like the salts. Bruce rolled his eyes and tugged the blonde out of the tub, handing him a towel. Bruce gently brushed his fingers over some of the marks he’d left on the blonde’s neck, making Steve shiver pleasantly. He was still marked up…he wasn’t sure why that pleased him so much, but it did. 

They dried off, and then headed back to the bed. Bruce told Steve to lay face down on it, and the blonde glanced to him curiously. Bruce smiled softly, and the Captain relaxed fully once more, doing as asked. Soft music started playing, and moments later Bruce straddled his waist and dripped cinnamon oil over Steve’s back. Steve mumbled something like, “Y’ don’t hafta,” but Bruce shushed him gently and started massaging his shoulders. Steve groaned softly, half in pain and half in pleasure. Bruce took his time, slowly easing the tension from Steve’s super soldier muscles. Steve was a puddle beneath him, and kept mumbling thank yous to show how much he appreciated and loved the massage. He hardly ever got them, usually Natasha handed out free shoulder rubs on movie or gaming nights. 

After Bruce was done Steve was pretty sure he couldn’t move even if he wanted to. The brunette laid next to him and suggested he sleep. Steve mumbled again, this time about returning the favor. But Bruce shook his head. 

”For the dom, the aftercare isn’t being taken care of. Its doing the caring. I’m good Steve, get some rest. I’ll be right here. After your nap we’ll head up to the common floor. It’s gaming night, and Clint has a bet going on who’s gonna win the Mario Cart tournament.”

Steve grinned, feeling a strange light feeling bubbling in his chest. Happiness, he realized. He was happy. _Really_ happy.

He drifted to sleep with his head in Bruce’s lap, as the brunette sat leaning against his headboard working on his tablet. Now, it wasn’t fine at all.

It was perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Note:** Oliver isn’t going to be a huge part of this story, because I want to focus more on the team. I’ll also fast forward through the Winter Soldier and may pretend Civil war didn’t happen xD so we’ll definitely end up with Bucky Sam will be here but probably not in the love-fest. No Rodney, Vision, Wanda, Pietro, or Peter. Here’s what you can expect in the sex aspect. These are the ways I see the avengers:
> 
> Steve: Pansexual, demisexual. Switch, 90% sub and bottom. Sensitive nipples and ass. Dick: 7 inches, good thickness. Major kinks: humiliation, masochist, praise, service bottom, and being called Captain.
> 
> Tony: polysexual, demisexual. Switch, 60% dom and top. Sensitive ears and balls. Dick: Almost 7 inches, pretty damn thick. Major kinks: Daddy, edging, fisting, machines, collars, sadist and masochist.
> 
> Bruce: Polysexual, demisexual. Switch, 98% dom. 70% bottom. Sensitive lips and thighs. Dick: 7.5 inches, decently but not notably thick. Major kinks: bondage and suspension, pet play, sadist.
> 
> Natasha: Polysexual. 100% dom, 70% top. But even if she’s bottoming, she’s in charge. Sensitive scalp and thighs. Major kinks: pegging, pet play, Mommy, begging, age play, sadist.
> 
> Thor: Pansexual. Switch, 95% dom, 90% top. Sensitive neck and nipples. Dick: 9 inches, impressively thick. Major kinks: size kink and marking 9inside and out), slight sadist. Service top. 
> 
> Clint: Bisexual. 70% sub and bottom. Sensitive balls and scalp. Dick: 6.5 inches, somewhat thick. Major kinks: service bottom and pegging. 
> 
> Bucky: Pansexual as fuck. 85% dom and 95% top. Sensitive scars and nipples. Dick: 8 inches, pretty thick. Major kinks: pet play, teasing, his metal arm, outfits, pegging, light comeplay.


	10. The Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve can't stay away from the field, after all. And that doesn't work out too well. But in the end, his team is there for him.
> 
> As always.

Steve ended up in a lazy, content mood the next day. He and Bruce kept sharing small smiles and soft looks, and it was…warm. Comfortable.

The blonde had been trying to ask Google more about BDSM that day, knowing Bruce wanted to have all of them talk soon. But the Captain kept getting overwhelmed by all the information and stories and _oh God the pictures and the fucking **videos.**_

Steve decided he would just draw instead.

So for most of the day, he was in the common floor living room with Natasha. Nat was writing who-knows-what on her laptop while Steve drew and tried not to get hard every time he remembered what it was like to be tied down and immobile...

Towards the end of the lazy day, Tony actually emerged from his lab. Bruce was behind him, and Steve smiled. Bruce was the only one who could get Tony to leave the lab after less than two days. Bruce caught Steve’s eye, and suddenly Steve felt his chest clench with anticipation. Bruce wanted them all to talk now, Steve could tell. He took a breath, trying to ward of the anxiety. The haze was faint today, easier to ignore. Steve didn’t want to let his nerves ruin that.

After another look from Bruce as he tried to get Tony to eat actual food and not only power bars, Steve reluctantly went to get the others. He had Jarvis call Clint up, and went to Thor’s room in person.

“Thor?” He asked, knocking softly on the doorframe. The door was open, but still…

“Steven! Come, look!”

Steve smiled at the cheerful voice and walked in. There was a huge rug on the floor, it looked like…a cross between a mammoth and a…bear? Steve stepped on it curiously, bare-footed, and his eyes widened.

“It’s so soft! What is it??”

Thor beamed, laying on his back on the rug. He was shirtless, which was actually not uncommon. The god just didn’t care much for shirts, the team had quickly learned. “ ’Tis a Jecckaul! You would liken it to Midgard’s wolf!”

Steve looked down, blinking. “Thor, wolves are a fourth of this size!”

“Indeed, ‘tis larger. I bested it without my hammer! All it took was a--”

“Thor, I don’t want to interrupt your stories, but they can be long, and Bruce and I want to have the team together for a chat right now if it’s okay?” Steve rambled nervously, hoping he wasn’t being rude or embarrassing himself already.

Thor sprang up quickly. “But of course, let us join them for this chat! Is that another Midgardian dish?” The god asked, sweeping his hair into a messy bun.

Steve chuckled, and marveled at how it wasn’t an effort to do so. Maybe Bruce and Tony were right, maybe talking did help a little…

“No, a chat is a talk. Conversation. Meeting, you know?”

The Asgardian nodded. “Very well, very well.” He wrapped his arm around Steve’s shoulders and kissed the side of his head as they walked back to the living room. Thor had always been touchy, not familiar with Earth’s concept of platonic vs. romantic touches. Steve had been a little weirded out by it at first, but he’d grown to like it. He’d never dreamed he could be in a relationship with any of them, so if those small kisses or cuddles were all he could steal, well, he’d relish in them.

 “Tell me, have you have been well?”

Steve was trying to look down, so Thor wouldn’t see how red his face was. The god made him feel so small, and Jesus his lips were warm on his temple…! “Um, er, well yes, yeah. I have. Been well. Better. Thank you for asking.”

 _Jesus Steve, get it together!_ Steve mentally berated himself.

Thor paid his stuttering no mind past a warm smile. “That is grand news!” The two blondes turned the corner to find everyone else waiting. Bruce gestured to Steve.

“Go ahead.”

Steve froze, cheeks pink as he realized Bruce was going to make him _actually explain this?! By himself????_

“But--I--can’t you um--?” Steve tried to ask.

Bruce shook his head. “You should tell everyone, not me. It’s alright, you know by now we aren’t gonna judge you.”

Tony frowned a little. “You alright? Is something wrong, Steve?”

Cling hummed, but also looked concerned.

Steve ended up pink in the face. But Bruce laid a hand on his back, rubbing gently in encouragement. The blonde took a deep breath, let it out slowly, then decided to take another leap of faith by trusting his team and reaching out to them.

“I wanted to ask…er, offer…well, ask if you all…um. Well basically I l—“

(Tony, who knew Steve best, felt his heart skip a beat. Could it be…?!)

But the alarm for them to assemble blared right then, and they all jumped. _Well, saved me from that embarrassment, but dammit, now I’ll only have to explain it later…_

Steve immediately went to grab his shield, but Natasha grabbed his arm. Steve paused, holding his shield and looking to Nat.

“What?”

“You’re not going.”

“The hell I’m not! I’m not gonna let you risk your lives and just sit around--!!”

“Steve, we don’t trust you’ll take your own safety seriously,” Clint said, brutally honest. The Captain felt his heart clench. So they didn’t trust him…he wondered how much they trusted him at all, now that he’d ruined their trust…

Steve watched them all rush to get ready and suited up, still holding his shield. As they left, Bruce stopped to give Steve a peck on the lips. He looked into his eyes, the brown slightly green around the edges. Somehow, Steve knew that didn’t mean Bruce was angry. He felt in those few seconds like both Bruce and the Hulk were speaking to him; like Hulk was there, agreeing with Bruce and backing him up.

“We love you, Steve. That’s why we want you safe. And we’ll finish the conversation once we’re back.” Bruce smiled softly. “Promise.”

Steve nodded, looking down. He let his shield drop, feeling a lump form in his throat. He felt useless…

“Make sure dinner is ready when we get back, Spangles!” Tony called back to him. Steve chuckled a little at that, watching them leave. In the distance, he saw another portal in the sky, like when Loki had invaded. He could just barely make out Tony starting to shoot at the aliens midair, the hover bikes unable to keep up with the speed of Tony’s suit.

“Jarvis, keep me updated, will you?” Steve said dully, sitting on the couch.

“Sir has forbid me to do so. He fears you will worry and come out with them if you are patched into the coms.

Steve swore and was half tempted to throw his shield at the wall out of frustration. Just because he used a blade to deal with shit didn’t mean he would try to get himself killed on a mission! They didn’t understand; that was where he was finally useful for once! Helping protect people!

Steve paced restlessly, trying to find a way to distract himself. He actually did start dinner, putting several casseroles in the oven that would take a long time to simmer in the oven. But then he was back to pacing, grumbling to himself about how Tony was too reckless to be leading them in his absence.

“Stupid sarcastic jackass, he’ll tell them all to relax while he tries some new weapon only to get his stupid ass killed and—“

Faint screams snapped Steve from his anxious rambling. He ran to the living room, where the entire walls were windows since they were on the 60th floor. He the building across from the tower being terrorized by two of the aliens. Steve paused for only a few seconds, seeing the others…too far away to notice. He didn’t pause this time, grabbing his shield and running to the elevator.

“Captain Rogers, I’m under orders not to let you leave the buil—“

“Try me, Jarvis! I’ll bust my way out if I have to!” Steve yelled at the ceiling. He was sure if Jarvis could sigh, he would’ve then.

He’d just be careful, for his team’s sake. He knew they worried because they cared, he knew that, he just…he could prove he was able to be in the field! Plus, it wasn’t like he was about to stand by and watch people die when he could help!

Steve didn’t even need to take his bike, sprinting to the building under attack. He saw the aliens’ bikes outside, and ran in to try and find them. All he had to do was find where the civilians were running from, screaming. Steve urged them to quiet, and get out as fast as possible. He went through the upper floors, getting out anyone who had decided to hide instead of run. Then, he crept into the basement, shield poised in front of him.

The second Steve made it down the stairs, he was sent flying back into the stairs by a blast from some kind of ray gun. He winced as his back slammed into the stairs, but was quickly up and hurling his shield at the alien. He managed to knock it back, and his shield bounced back to him. Running at the alien, Steve threw the shield again immediately and nailed the alien in the neck, killing it.

He didn’t pause, continuing to the room the alien had come out of. He found the second one planting…some sort of device on the boiler for the building. Steve threw his shield again, trying to stop the creature from doing anything more. But another shot from one of their guns had Steve’s shield flying back into his face, knocking the Captain to the ground. Before Steve had even stopped skidding across the ground, the alien had pressed a button on the device and ran out of the basement.

“Shit, that hurts…” Steve grumbled, getting up slower than usual. A huge, swollen red line was already forming across his cheek where his shield hit. No wonder people always went down after a hit like that, that hurt like a sonofa’ gun…

The blonde ran to the device before giving chase to the alien, needing to know what it was…he didn’t recognize the symbols on the screen, but the beeping and wires didn’t bode well. Placed here, the explosion would travel through the vents and set fire to the whole building. Plus, it would take out the support, and the falling building would no doubt kill people outside…or send neighboring buildings tumbling, even. Steve went to rip the wires out, but paused. He couldn’t be reckless…his team…

Instead, the blonde picked the entire thing up, grunting with effort. It was way heavier than it looked! He’d get it outside, then throw it into the air, and hopefully it wouldn’t do as much damage that way…!

Steve was panting by the time he reached the entrance, and immediately saw the alien that had fled getting onto its hover bike. Gritting his teeth, Steve ran to the bike and jumped on, ignoring the alien screeching at him as it took off.

Steve could barely see with the wind in his eyes. He was trying not to let go of his shield as the alien swerved and tried to shake him off. The Captain managed to wedge the bomb between two parts on the bike, and then did his best to stand. He swung at the alien, and punched it in the back. It screeched again, grating Steve’s ears and making him wince. The creature kept one of its four hands on the bike, and swung with its other three at Steve. The blonde barely ducked in time, slicing with his shield. He cut through one of the alien’s arms, earning a horrid scream this time.

The bike wobbled dangerously as the alien almost lost control, and Steve fell, shouting, hanging off the side now. His shield fell, and the alien turned to him. But before kicking him off, it noticed the bomb on the bike. It roared this time, and snarled. It took the chain off its ankle that was attached to the bike so it didn’t fall off, and yanked Steve up by his shirt. The blonde tried to turn and kick, but the alien was twice his size, its arms taller than the Captain. So it held him at arms’ length, and then wrapped Steve’s leg in the chain. Steve flailed again, trying to rip its claws off his shirt, but then he was falling, and panicking, and—“

 _“Aghh!”_ He shouted in pain as the chain caught him, his leg nearly dislocating from the weight and force. Steve saw a blur beside him, and swore in a way that would’ve earned him a ruler and four detentions back in school. The alien had jumped off the bike, and he was heading straight for the portal in the sky. It must have enabled autopilot and then bailed.

And Steve was dangling from the bike helplessly, about to be dragged into space. With no suit like the one Tony had barely survived in.

Fuck.

This whole thing was _not_ going how he’d hoped.

****

Clint was on a building, shooting hover bikes as fast as he could and covering Tony. “These things just keep coming!”

“Then just keep shooting!” Tony yelled back through the coms, shooting a missile at several aliens on the ground. He heard Thor’s boisterous laughter, bringing down lighting strikes a block away.

The archer was about to retort, but a loud clang behind him interrupted. Clint whirled around, arrow drawn and ready, only to see a familiar shield lying on the roof behind him. A couple scorch marks marred the shiny red white and blue surface.

Clint stared for a moment.

“Fuck.”

“What is it, Clint??” Natasha asked immediately.

Clint looked up, surveying the hover bikes flying everywhere…and saw one that was going the opposite direction; back to the portal.

With a shock of yellow hair in a t-shirt and sweatpants on it, fist fighting an alien.

_“Fuck!”_

“Clint, what?!”

“Steve!”

“Steve?!” three voices responded. Tony was immediately scanning the area, and found Steve just in time to watch him get thrown off the bike. Thor was already flying to catch him, when Steve suddenly stopped falling with a pained shout.

Thor was slammed into by a hover bike midair, sending him flying away from Steve. Tony swore foully, blasting towards Steve as quickly as he could.

“That idiot, for the love of God! He can only listen in the fucking bedroom apparently, I’m gonna kill him!”

“Stark!” Natasha berated. Tony wasn’t listening though. He was too focused on the blonde slamming into a building as the bike passed it, leaving a dent in the concrete.

“Steve!” Tony screamed, praying to a god he didn’t believe in the blonde could hear him past the wind. Steve hadn’t even stopped to put on his suit before he ran out to fight, so he didn’t have a com…!

Tony heard a faint cry of “Tony!”, and felt his heart beat into his throat. But then he saw how close the bike already was to the portal, and Jarvis was already running the math, but Tony already knew, he wasn’t going to make it, Steve was too far, and…!

Tony made the only decision he could. He held out his hand and aimed as best he could, firing his repulsor. It took two misses (thank God they didn’t hit Steve) before he managed to blast the flailing chain. It broke immediately, and two seconds afterwards the bike exploded.

Tony hadn’t known about the bomb on the bike.

He’d been going to fly right under Steve. He could’ve caught him. Easily! But the explosion sent the Captain flying sideways from the force of it. The chain was still dangling off his leg, Tony was aiming to grab it if nothing else… and then Tony was being swarmed by yet _more_ of these fucking hover bikes, and in his peripheral vision all he could see was Steve going down, down, down, down…

Thor was still fighting the alien that had attacked him. Hulk was blocks away with Natasha. Clint was on top of a building. Tony was screaming at them through the coms -- anyone of them-- to catch Steve, but they were too far away, and they knew it.

The blonde was over water, blessedly. But from that height, water would feel like concrete anyways. And it was November. The water was too cold for someone to be in it for longer than a few minutes--!

Tony was already rushing there, ignoring the aliens on his tail as Clint shot them out of the sky for him. But there were more in front of him, slowing him down. And all the billionaire could do was try not to let the aliens blow him out of the sky and watch as Steve slammed into the water and sank.

**_“Steve!!”_ **

****

Steve wondered if this was how Bucky felt as he’d fallen. The air so frigid as it screamed past your ears and froze you. The wonder of if the impact would hurt, or if you’d be dead too quickly to notice the pain. The wish to be a bird, suddenly. Not for the freedom of wings, but for the ability to fall without this all-encompassing fear and panic and helplessness.

And then the pain _did_ hit. Maybe he wasn’t dead yet, then. But he was freezing again and drowning all over again and oh God, he’d crashed the plane again.

He was going to miss another date.

****

“All power to the thrusters, Jarvis!!”

“Already done, sir. This is maximum speed.”

_“It’s not fast enough!!!”_

Tony had fought off the aliens that swarmed him as quickly as he could. Natasha and Hulk were already dealing with the last of them to let Tony go for their Captain. But the billionaire was hundreds of feet away, and the water’s surface was already level once more. He didn’t see any bubbles.

How long had it been already? Two minutes? Seven? He didn’t even know.

Tony was muttering a stream of “fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!” as he dove into the water and turned on the lights on his suit. He went deeper, panicking because even through the suit he could feel how cold the water was.

It had already been eight minutes, JARVIS informed him. But Steve was superhuman, he could hold his breath for 10.

…If he had the chance to take a full breath, that was.

The billionaire went deeper still, scanning the murky water as fast as he could, looking for that ridiculously bright and stupid hair.

It felt like an hour before Tony finally found it, sinking slowly, a trail of brownish blood floating away from Steve’s form like smoke in the water. He flew through the water as quickly as his suit would allow, grabbed Steve around the chest, then blasted straight up with all the power the suit had left. It took a full minute to reach the surface, they’d been so deep.

Once they were in the sun again, Tony made a beeline for the shore where he saw Natasha’s shock of red hair. The portal was closed, only a few aliens remained now.

He tried not to focus on how limp Steve was in his arms. He tried not to focus on the blood already dripping down the blonde’s arm. Tony landed and set Steve down, flipping his faceplate up. He didn’t need to see the warnings and red vital signs from his suit. He just didn’t.

Steve’s lips were tinged blue, and he looked far paler than when Clint had shown him his first modern ghost movie.

Tony felt numb suddenly, when he realized Steve’s chest wasn’t moving.

Natasha cursed and felt for a pulse, while Tony immediately moved to start CPR. The suit allowed him to use just the right amount of pressure, it was programmed for it. Clint landed nearby, carried by Thor. They’d taken care of the portal and the last of the aliens before coming to check on Tony and Steve. Seconds later Bruce stumbled around a building, clad only in his torn shorts, and rushed towards them.

“Jesus fuck, please tell me he’s—“

“Shut the fuck up, Clint,” Tony growled. He paused to let Natasha breathe into Steve’s mouth. Tony continued the compressions, trying to tell himself the water streaming down his face was from a leak in his suit. Or something. Steve couldn’t just die on them like this!

Suddenly the blonde choked and water spilled from his mouth. Thor was there in a flash, pushing Steve gently onto his side as the Captain threw up the water in his lungs. Steve’s brow creased as he hacked and gasped for air, now able to draw a little air past his burning lungs. The Avengers all breathed out collectively, relaxing now.

Steve finally stopped coughing after a few minutes, panting. He sagged then, and Thor gently eased him back onto his back.

The Captain stared at the sky, looking dazed. Bruce noticed his lips were still blue. Bluer, really. He turned to Thor. “Thor, your cape. He’s too cold!”

Steve didn’t react to the red garment being laid over him, now breathing easier. He coughed again, deep in his chest. Tony felt tears of pure rage prick his eyes. “What the fuck did you think you were doing, Steve?!”

Finally, Steve reacted to what was going on around him. He blinked, glancing to Tony. He stared for a moment. Had Howard found him this time…? What the hell was the man wearing? Some kind of armor? Then his eyes widened. “Tony…?”

“What?? You fucking asswipe!”

Steve’s eyes watered, and then started to drift closed. “Thought…would wake up alone again…sorry Peg. Sorry. Tony, m sorry. All of you. Didn’t wanna miss our…our date.”

Natasha patted Steve’s chest. “Hey, no, it’s alright. You didn’t miss anything, everything’s fine.”

Tony cursed when he saw Steve’s eyes start to drift closed again. He patted his cheek quickly. “No sleeping buddy, you’re past the point of shivering. That means some serious hypothermia. So stay awake!”

Steve merely coughed again, clearly not paying much attention to what was being said. He swallowed hard and looked to where Clint and Bruce were standing over him.

“M’ sorry, I c-couldn’t...stay ‘way. People woulda’ died. Was gonna jus-st be careful, for you.” He chuckled dryly, coughing more now. “Didn’t exactly…w-w-work out.”

Tony scooped Steve into his arms, noticing the nasty bruise on his face and the bleeding burns along his chest and arms from when the explosion had thrown him towards the river. He flew them back to the tower and to the medical floor as quickly as possible, knowing the others would take care of the rest of the aliens. The doctors gave Steve some salve and bandages for his burns and new clothes while Tony watched anxiously, letting his suit come off him in pieces while never taking his eyes off his Captain. The others came back as soon as they could, still in uniform and worried sick.

The doctor walked out once he was done patching the Captain up, knowing Steve’s team was waiting to hear how he was. “He’s fine, the serum is already healing his lungs. He has hypothermia though, and it doesn’t take my medical degree to figure he’s struggling with PTSD about now. This was too close to when he crashed. But he’s making a fuss about being in medical yet again, so he’s not doing too badly.” The doctor smiled softly. He was on call for the Avengers, and well. He’d dealt with pissed off, bleeding Captain America insisting he was fine too many times to count.

As if on cue the Avengers could hear Steve exclaiming, “I d-d-don’t care, I don’t need t-to be in m-medical!”

Clint sighed, and Natasha shook her head, smiling fondly. “We’ll make sure he gets warmed up. C’mon, let’s go take our Captain home.”

They headed to Steve, finding him trying to shoo a nurse with an IV away. Steve’s lips were still tinged blue, his skin really pale. His face also had a huge bruise going all the way across it from his own shield, but it was fading quickly thank to his healing. The burns on his face were nearly healed already, but his arms and chest were partially swathed in gauze. The Captain glanced up and his face immediately brightened when he saw his team. Steve’s happiness was short lived though, when Bruce came up to him and cuffed him over the side of the head.

“Ow! B-Bruce! Why?” Steve was still stuttering from the cold. Thankfully though, he was shivering now. Meaning, his body was trying to warm itself up now, as opposed to when Tony had brought him out of the water.

“You’re an asshole. What do you think ‘grounded’ means?! No combat! That means _no combat!”_

Steve stood on shaky legs as Clint urged him up. As they walked to the elevator, the Captain huffed. “I w-wasn’t gonna let the th-th-thing plant a bomb right across the s-street! What’d you expect me t-t-t-to do, just watch?!”

Tony was  listening, quietly just enjoying hearing Steve showing some emotion. Compared to his apathetic voice as of late…well, even this annoyance and stubbornness was nice.

“Dude, you nearly drowned, you can’t--!”

“We were afraid you’d _try_ to get yourself killed, okay?” Natasha interrupted, looking Steve in the eye as they rode the elevator to the common floor. That gave Steve pause. He stared into Natasha’s eyes for a few moments, then looked away. He clenched his jaw to try and keep his teeth from chattering audibly.

“...” Finally Steve scoffed lightly. “You r-r-really think I w-would’ve tried to get taken into s-s-s-s-space through a port-tal? Or drown again? R-really, I’d have picked s-s-something better th-th-this time, if I w-wanted to die.”

“Y—“ Tony started. But Steve didn’t let him start to argue.

“No, guys, y-you don’t unders-s-stand, I’m n-not…I don’t…” Steve trailed off, shaking and staring at the ground. He sighed.

“Explain. Please. We don’t want to see you hurt, you absolute idiot, much less dead,” Tony said, annoyed yet clearly worried. Steve clenched his jaw again, though this time clearly out of anger.

“I c-can be useful now, don’t you get it?? I can h-help people, and I don’t w-w- _want_ to die, for God’s s-s-ake! I can take care of mys-self in the field, I c-can…. _feel,_ when I’m fighting. Usually, anyw-ways. I can’t s-s-s-stay put, guys, p-please, don’t make me stay out of the f-fights, I can’t, I…” Steve trailed off again, shaking his head. Thor gave Steve his cape again, wrapping it around his shoulders. After they all got into the elevator the god tilted Steve’s head up with a finger under his chin and looked Steve in the eye.

“You’re a warrior at heart. We understand this, Steven. But you do not comprehend the love in our hearts for you. To see you injured, by your own hand or another’s, is painful. We can, perhaps, let you continue to lead us in battle if you will agree to see one of Midgard’s mind healers. This way we’ll trust more in you to treat your own safety as a priority.”

The Captain frowned. “…a th-therapist…? I don’t w-w-want to talk to s-s-s-some s-stranger…”

Clint sighed as the elevator stopped, leading everyone to the common room. He got Steve a cup of hot cocoa, while Thor held Steve to his side to try and help him warm up. “Then you need to at least start talking to us more,” Clint said. “We know your past sucks, okay? Don’t try and spare us the stories. They won’t weigh on you so heavily if they’re not secrets.”

Steve sipped his drink, feeling the warmth in his core and relaxing a little, his shivers already lessening. He shook his head still. “But…y-you don’t need t-t-to know all th-that…”

“Steve, I cannot count the number of times I let myself be touched for the sake of a mission,” Natasha hissed. “I get it, somewhat, okay? We care about you. Prove to us you have self preservation and we’ll let you back on the field. It’s that simple.”

Everyone was quiet for a few moments. Natasha had made her point, not only because of what she said, but because she’d said it. She never shared such things with them, but the fact she had proved she trusted them. Steve, too, realized this. He looked down, trying to think about if he could manage therapy. He ended up swaying a little without realizing it. Thor held him steady, then brought the Captain to the couch. He stripped Steve of his wet, charred, bloodstained clothes as Tony fetched Steve fresh, dry ones. Steve was too tire to care they saw him naked briefly. He simply slipped his pajama pants on quickly. Thor then stripped his own dirty shirt off and wrapped them in his cape and a couple blankets, holding Steve close so he could share body heat.

“Rest for now. Warm yourself. We will speak more later.”

Steve merely nodded. His eyes were already drifting closed. Clint and Bruce went to go shower and rest, while Tony got a cup of his beloved coffee before heading to his own room. Natasha ran her hands though Steve’s hair soothingly before going to clean up as well. Steve sighed once they were gone, shifting to get comfortable against Thor’s broad chest.

For minutes the two blondes laid together, just relaxing and resting. Steve’s shivers faded slowly, but never stopped completely. The phantom chill lingered, memories of the ice too strong for him to just shake off. Eventually, half asleep already, Steve quietly asked, “Th-Thor?”

“Yes?” Ah, so Thor wasn’t asleep yet either.

“Do…” He paused, unsure how to ask. “…w-well…do you think I’m weak? Foolish? For…all th-th-this. I just…”

Thor shook his head. “No, Captain.” Steve relaxed a little already at the words. “You have endured more than many mortals and even some Asgardians. You are strong, undoubtedly so. Tis what attracted me to you in the first place.” Thor smiled softly and gently rubbed Steve’s bandaged shoulder. “Your shoulders can only hold so much weight. We wish to hold some of it for you, if you’ll let us.”

Steve shifted, loking Thor in the eye now. “…I don’t feel s-s-strong, but thank you. I just…I don’t know how to let you hold p-part of it. I don’t know how to s-s-share these things…”

Thor hummed softly. “We will speak of it later. You must rest now, your mind and body are tired…..” He frowned softly. “I will admit I don’t understand your compulsion to…harm yourself. Why do it purposefully?”

Steve looked down. “It’s…it just helps.”

“Well, I do not wish to see you harmed. So think of it no more.”

Steve smiled, laughing a little. “I wish it were s-so easy. But thank you Thor. For everything. Jane is a lucky dame to have someone so caring.”

Thor looked a bit saddened. “She did not think so, as it tuns out. She did not handle the frequent separation well, and ended our relations.”

The Captain’s mouth formed an “o”. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

“Tis alright. I have had time to move on, and find there are more suitable partners for me nearby.”

“Oh?”

“Quite near, yes,” Thor’s eyes were sparkling. Why--”

Steve’s eyes widened as Thor kissed him, gently and…so sweetly. The Captain sighed into it, relaxing fully now and his shivering finally stopping. Thor kept the kiss chaste, pulling away too soon for Steve’s liking.

They stared at each other for a moment. Finally Steve asked, “So Asgardians don’t look down on gays?”

Thor bellowed with laughter. “No Steven! We live for many years; to be caught up on such trivial matter is beyond us! You Midgardians are strange for caring about the gender of a partner!”

Steve chuckled. “I ‘spose so…” His eyes felt heavy, and he yawned. Thor mimicked him.

“Rest now, my Captain.”

Steve, for once, simply listened. He laid his head back on Thor’s chest, feeling warmer than he had since he woke from the ice.

As he fell asleep, he realized Thor had referred to partner _s_ being nearby.

Maybe it really would end up fine after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> College, two jobs, a life, depression. It gets in the way of writing. Thank you for the comments, they're what keep me going on this story. Thank you for your patience and I hope you enjoy this chapter! I've been in a writing mood lately so hopefully, expect more chapters soon!
> 
> ~J


	11. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team finally comes together, and for once, Steve listens. 
> 
> Maybe he's not alone after all.

Tony woke in a cold sweat. He laid in his bed for long minutes, breathing heavily. He shut his eyes tightly, telling himself over and over again it had been a dream. Steve _had_ responded to the CPR, he’d come back to them, he was alive and okay, his lips hadn’t stayed blue and cold and dead, he _had_ started breathing again, everything was fine…

Well. Minus the severely depressed and questionably suicidal Captain the team was desperately trying to help.

Tony sighed, getting up and getting dressed. He was honestly more surprised they weren’t dealing with PTSD. Well, they probably were dealng with that too. And anxiety. But still, it could be worse. Tony knew they could help Steve, he was determined to get the blonde to realize his team was here for him, so he would let them help him heal.

That thought in mind, Tony shoved his dream away and walked out to the common floor to find the very warm and alive Steve…not on the couch with Thor where they’d left him last night. Thor was just waking up, rubbing his eyes.

Tony’s chest clenched before he heard rustling in the kitchen. Breathing a sigh of relief, he walked in to find…Bruce cooking and Clint reading the news on a tablet.

“Guys? Is Steve with Natasha?”

They looked up at him. “We thought he was with you. Nat is in the bathroom.”

Tony swallowed, then shook his head, going to the coffee pot. “No, it’s probably fine though, he’s probably showering and getting ready or running and being his stupid self…”

Bruce pursed his lips a little. “Yeah, probably…JARVIS? Steve’s okay, right?”

“Indeed, he is unharmed.”

“Call him for breakfast would you?”

A pause. “He says he is not hungry, but thank you.”

Clint rolled his eyes. “Tell him I’m gonna make him eat anyways! He hasn’t been eating enough!”

Tony chuckled. “Yeah no, not with how many calories he needs with that serum.”

Bruce was glad Steve wasn’t there, or else he would’ve ended up snapping at the Captain for not taking care of himself.

Thor walked in, followed by Natasha, her hair damp and curling at the ends. Thor blinked at them, confused. “Steven is not here?”

“No, why?”

“He rose hours ago, said he was going to take one of those showers.”

Tony paused for only a few seconds. “Okay, it couldn’t hurt to ask. JARVIS, where is Steve?”

“He is on the roof, sir.”

Bruce tensed up as he was cooking nearly spilling food everywhere. “Excuse me?! How long has he been there?!”

“About two hours, Doctor Banner.”

“Why didn’t you say something soone--!!!” Bruce was cut off by Natasha. “Calm down, he draws up there all the time, it doesn’t mean he’s in danger.”

“He does appear to be on the other side of the guardrail, Agent Romanov,” JARVIS said idly. “This may qualify as “dangerous”.”

“….oh my God, you _think?!”_ Tony hissed. “You didn’t think to mention that?!” The others were already piling into the elevator with Tony.

“Remind me to update you rcommon sense algorithms, JARVIS!”

“Duly noted, sir.”

Clint cursed as the numbers slowly increased, on efloor at a time. “He wouldn’t right??? Surely. I mean. He….he just wouldn’t.”

“We’re probably overreacting, he goes to the roof all the time,” Natasha tried to reason. She wasn’t trying to convince herself. No way. That wasn’t it.

“Yeah, but on the other side of the fucking railing?! I don’t think that’s normal!” Clint snapped. Tony bristled.

“I’ll have my suit ready, it can be out in seconds if they need to, to cat—“ his voice cracked, and no one had the heart to mention it. “Catch him.”

“It will not come to it, surely…” Thor said. The others hoped he was right. Hoped they were just overreacting. They hoped so…

The doors opened, and Thor was the first one out. “Steven???”

The blonde head of hair was sitting right above the Avenger’s “A” on the side of the building. His hair was still damp from a shower, his bandages gone and his skin pink with scars from the burns. The scars would be gone by the end of the day. He was indeed behind the glass guardrail, sitting on the ledge with his feet hanging off the edge. His sketchbook was in his lap. He glanced behind him, seeing everyone and raising a brow. “Why are you all here?”

Bruce approached slowly, the others just steps behind him. “We were worried, we came to make sure you’re okay…why are you not behind the guardrail, Steve?”

The blonde turned back to his drawing, facing away from them. “I’m fine, just drawing.” He didn’t respond to the question.

Clint was jittery with nerves. He didn’t like this. Steve sound apathetic again. Now was not the time to be apathetic. “Come back over the railing? We made breakfast, you should come eat.”

Steve shrugged. “Not that hungry. Wanna draw more. Why are you all here anyways?” He was fine, they didn’t all need to come rushing.

“Uh, Cap, from where we’re standing it looks like you’re not eating nearly enough, are already losing some weight and are at risk for jumping off the side of my tower. So if you could come over to this side of the railing and talk to us that’d be great,” Tony said, sarcastic as always to deal with stress.

Steve chuckled a little. “Am I getting thinner? Hm…I’ll eat more then I guess. But later. I’m comfortable. And no, I’m not gonna jump.”

“Captain, please, come to safety. I will bring you here myself if need be,” Thor said, coming closer. When he was a few feet away Steve turned again. He huffed in irritation and stood, making everyone tense and try to edge closer slowly. Steve smiled, no humor in it. So he really had broken the team’s trust. Wow, he really was a shitty Captain. And friend.

Steve glanced down, seeing the street below. A fall from this height probably _would_ kill him, serum or not. But, at the very least, he couldn’t scar the others by making them watch him fall. He knew the pain of waking from nightmares of a loved one falling, just out of reach…

The others were creeping closer now that Steve’s back was turned again. They were panicking internally, seeing the Captain staring down and praying he wasn’t preparing himself to jump. Thor was just about to forcibly yank Steve to safety when the blonde turned and climbed back over the railing. At once the tension left the Avengers.

Clint stepped up and smacked Steve’s unijured arm. “What the fuck dude! Don’t scare us like that!”

Steve set his mouth in a slight frown. “I wasn’t gonna jump, you guys didn’t need to worry.”

“Of course we’re gonna worry Steve! Jesus God, why wouldn’t we?!” Tony exclaimed. He’d been so terrified he’d have to send a suit to catch Steve…

Steve shook his head. “It’s fine. I’m fine, so you don’t need to worry anymore.” He was numb today. Everything felt a hundred miles away, emotions an impossible feat. He let the team lead him back to the common room, and let Bruce pile his plate high with food. Steve ate, only because his team would worry otherwise. He wondered if he should try and continue the conversation he’d tried to start before the alien attack…but no. There was no point. They would never return the feelings. He didn’t want to be kicked out of the tower or make them hate him…

“Who’s up for a movie?” Bruce suggested. They all needed a bit of relaxation time. He figured Steve wasn’t in the right headspace to ask the team about their…situation. So he decided not to bring it up.

The Captain shook his head though. “Thanks, but ‘m gonna go draw more.” He stood and grabbed his sketchbook again, only to have Tony stop him.

“If you think we’re letting you go sit up on the roof alone again you’ve got a whole ‘nother thing comin’, asshat.”

Steve looked mildly annoyed. Clint felt his heart ache at the apathy that seemed to plague Steve once more. “I’ll be fine, just forget it.”

“How can we possibly forget such a thing???” Thor implored. Natasha stood then, making her way to Steve. She glared up at him, and Steve looked down, meeting her eyes. Nat was tempted to slap the man for his cluelessness. But instead, she decided to hell with logic.

“Fuck it. You know what? Just fuck it.” And Natasha grabbed Steve’s collar, yanking him down and kissing him hard. Clint and Tony’s jaws dropped. Bruce cleared his throat suddenly, and Thor smiled widely.

Steve was completely confused. He froze for a moment, eyes wide. Then Nat moved her lips in a way that really wasn’t fair, and the blonde made a soft noise that only Natasha could hear. The rehead hummed very quietly, and Steve’s eyes fluttered closed. He could…feel this. Feel the care and emotion in the kiss, feel his own love instead of nothing but numbness and aching…it was so _nice._

After a minute Natasha pulled away, licking her lips. A devilish smirk was on her face when she saw Steve’s slightly dazed baby blues open to look at hers once more. She was pleased to see they were much clearer than they’d been before the kiss.

“Wh—I mean, why—um. Nat? I-I, I um, did um, will…why—“

Steve’s stammering was cut off by Clint, who turned Steve’s head and pulled him into a kiss as well. This one briefer. Steve’s eyes were saucers at this point, his mouth gaping uselessly. What….what??????

“We love you. Don’t you get it? We care about you. This team is a family,” Clint said, voice sure and confident.

“We don’t like seeing you in pain,” Bruce said softly.

“Or in danger,” Thor added.

“We want to help you be happy. To help you give us a 9 and 10 when we ask for your number,” Natasha murmured.

Tony smiled, more gently than Steve had ever seen him smile before. “Will you let us help, Steve? Will you let us in? Let us show you we’re here for you?”

Steve stared, listening mutely. When Tony finished, he swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. They all…loved him? They all…retured his feelings. They actually…and they…weren’t going to give up on him. They…

Steve’s eyes watered, his baby blues shining far more than usual as he nodded hard. “I…you all…love me? Me?” He laughed a little, a self-depreciating laugh.

“I mean we probably wouldn’t put up with your shit or kiss you or fuck you into next week like I did, if we didn’t,” Tony said, leering a bit. Steve flushed at that, looking down and shuffling his feet. Clint laughed though, and Natasha looked like she’d quite like to watch that.

Thor hugged Steve, lifting the man off the floor and spinning him halfway around. Steve squaked, not used to feelling so small after getting the serum. “This is grand! We may be lovers now, yes? I wish to bring you all the greatest of pleasures and the greatest abundance of love!”

Bruce aww-ed softly. Thor was adorable. “We should talk limits first, big guy.” Steve moved to the couch once Thor set him down, and the others followed suit, sitting on the couch or floor and listening to Bruce.

The scientist chuckled. “I like how you all just listen to me so quickly…alright, basically, before we do anything drastic, we need to talk. About limits, what we like, and what we don’t.”

There was a short pause. Steve cocked his head. “Like, sexually?”

Tony nodded. “In general too.”

Natasha took over. “Do not try and scare me. Do not hold me down. Do not order me around. Ask permission for touching or kisses. Other than not being restrained, I don’t have sexual limits. Well. No gross play. And I don’t sub. That’s it for me.”

Tony hummed. “No temperature play. Don’t go for my reactor without making it obvious you’re going to or asking first. I usually sub, but I like to dom a lot too, I’m about fifty-fifty. There’s a lot I’m into, but you can find that out later.”

Bruce shook his head. “I guess for me just don’t startle me too badly. The other guy only comes out when I’m in danger or pissed, or really startled. I don’t do gross play either…Oh, and no bloodplay. I almost always dom, so don’t expect me to sub often, if at all.”

Thor hummed. “I do not think there is anything I especially distaste…perhaps no needles. I had one partner who enjoyed those, but…I did not. I generally prefer to be gentle when in charge of another. I love being in charge, and enjoy pleasing my partners most of all.”

Tony snickered. “So you’re a service top.” Thor rose a brow, and he clarified, “You get off on doing what gets your partners off.”

“Ah, yes I suppose that would be accurate!” Thor said.

Clint chuckled a little. “Hm…just don’t tie me down, either. Or humiliation. Dirty talk is fine though, just nothing derogatory. And no impact play for me either. I don’t mind being submissive or dominant, really. Being dominant is usually more fun though,” he snickered.

All eyes turned to Steve then, and the Captain flushed already. “Um...."

“We need to know Cap, so we don’t accidentally trigger each other or anything. Relationships already require a lot of communication. With six people and BDSM added to it, it becomes even more important to talk about this shit.” Bruce explained, always the reasonable one. 

Steve nodded, ignoring his embarrassment. He tried his best to explain.

“Just don’t humiliate me either, I guess. Can’t think of much else I don’t like. I like….not making choices? And…serving. Being the one…taking orders. Since I usually give them. I don’t know, I just…being your Captain, but not being in any control of you at all, having you be in control instead…it’s um. Yeah. And. I really like. Um. You know. Catching. And. I guess that’s it?”

Tony scoffed. “Oh, that is _so_ not it for you. You have so many kinks, Spangles. Let me help you list what you liked.”

Steve sat there, half glaring at Tony, face pink. “I…! Fine… enlighten me, Shellhead.”

Bruce laughed. “Okay, let’s list kinks now, apparently starting with Steve.

Tony hummed. “Whoooo boy, where do I start? This boy,” he patted Steve’s shoulder firmly. “Has a hell of a submissive side.”

Already Steve was too embarrassed to hear more. “Tony…!” He protested. Nat shushed him though.

“You’re not gonna tell us what you’re into, so let Tony.”

Steve huffed, knowing that was true…he fell silent, albeit reluctantly.

Tony continued. “He likes praise. He likes being called Captain, being reminded he’s no longer in charge of us,” Steve turned red at that, as the other all shot him looks that said they very much approved of that. “He likes to be held down, I think. Am I right?”

Steve cleared his throat. “Um…yeah. Just…as long as I’m in the mood, I guess.”

The others nodded. Tony went on. “Umm, let’s see…he definitely loves rimming. And dirty talk. His prostate is so sensitive I’m jealous…and that’s about it I’d say.”

Bruce piped in. “He likes cock rings. And maybe pet play, need to explore that more though. Oh, and he likes ropes. For aftercare, a bath seems good for him.”

Steve was beet red by now. “You done talking about me yet???”

Tony and Bruce laughed. “Yeah, Cap, no worries.”

Clint stood suddenly. “Guys! I just had the best idea! To see what kinks we like, let’s play a drinking game!”

Nat groaned. “Clint, the last time we played this you ended up in the hospital…”

Clint jabbed a finger at the redhead. “Minor details! C’mon, it’ll be fun!”

Tony stood too. A drink was just what he needed, and he really wanted to know what Cap and the others wanted to try in the bedroom... “I’ll get the drinks!!”

Clint ran to his room. “I’ll get the other things we need! I’ll explain later!”

Thor grinned. “This will be grand! Steven, I’ll get the ale form Asgard for us to partake in!” And then the god was gone too. Bruce, Nat, and Steve were left in the living room, shaking their heads. Steve was marveling at how light his chest felt, knowing his team actually loved him back. He smiled, actually looking forward to a drinkig game of the first time in his life, no matter how embarrassing it would end up being.

This was gonna be a long night at this rate.

…But a fun one too, it seemed.

****

Once they're all back, Clint explains the game. He points to the upside-down hat in the center of the team. "Okay, so this game is called The Hat of Sin. On each slip of paper in there's a kink written down. When it's your turn you pick a slip and read off what it says. If you like it or would like to try it, or think you'd like it, take a drink. If you don't know what something is, ask. Then we just pass the hat around so everyone reads kinks off."

Tony laughed, grinning wider than the team could remember seeing before. "Oh my God, this game sounds perfect!" 

Bruce rolled his eyes. "I admit this will be better than talking. But I'm gonna stick to my lemonade here," he said, lifting his glass. Steve nodded in understanding. 

"Well, I guess it couldn't hurt...Thor, will this stuff really get me drunk?" Steve asked. Thor nodded. 

"I would be surprised if it did not. 'Tis a very strong liquor in my homeland."

Natasha smirked. "I call going first." She took the hat and pulled out a piece of paper. Her grey-green eyes flashed a little. "Creampie."

Thor and Steve immediately rose a brow. Clint snickered and explained, "It's when you come inside someone. Messy." 

Steve's face flamed as Tony gave him a sideways glance. He looked down as he took a drink from his bottle, watching as Thor, Tony, and Clint did the same. 

"Steve, why I never!" Clint teased. 

"Shut up," Steve grumbled. Natasha chuckled. 

"I can't wait to see what this game turns into when you get drunk, holy shit."

Steve sighed and took the hat as it was passed to him next. He squinted at the paper in his hand. "Uh...suspension." 

Without hesitation, Tony provided, "When you hang someone from the ceiling as a form of bondage." 

Steve's eyes widened a bit. You could do that?? He didn't drink, watching as Bruce and Clint did. Tony took the hat from him now.

"Fisting."

Steve made a choked noise in the back of his throat. "You can _do_ that????"

Natasha laughed a little. "Yes Steve, you can." And she took a large swig. Tony chugged the rest of his bottle, and Bruce hummed in thought before drinking. Steve buried his face in his hands. 

"You guys are gonna kill me..."

He smiled at the laughs that received. This was...so nice. Embarrassing as hell, but...so amazing. 

"I like this game, it's giving me ideas," Natasha smirked. Tony winked at her as Thor took the hat. 

"Mommy and Daddy?"

"When like...you call your partner Mommy or Daddy. Sexually or not. It can be used during age play too, as just a caregiver type of thing. Or it can be sexual," Clint explained. 

Steve frowned, not drinking to that one. No one asked him about it. Natasha and Tony drank though, giving each other a shared look. The game went on.

"Role playing." Tony and Steve drank. 

"Machines." Tony chugged his drink, Steve and Natasha drank. 

"Spanking." Steve and Natasha drank. 

"Overstimulation." Thor, Tony, and Steve drank. 

"Orgasm delay." They all drank, laughing about it as they did. 

"Cock cages and rings." They all drank again. 

"Dirty talk." They all drank again, and Steve at that point was actually feeling a little tipsy. He drank half of his third bottle at that one, much to Tony's amusement. 

"Blindfolds." Tony and Thor drank.

"Toys." Natasha, Clint, and Tony drank. 

"Orgies." Unsurprisingly, they all drank. 

"Spreader bars." Steve, Nat, and Tony drank.

"Mistress and Master." Steve, Tony, and Natasha drank. 

"Pet play." Natasha and Steve drank. Tiny did after a hesitation. 

On and in the game went until finally they had gone through all the slips in the hat. Tony laughed, tipsy but not yet drunk. "That was eye opening~" 

Natasha smirked, not letting show how tipsy she was. Or trying not to. "Steve here is gonna be fun to break in, mmm?"

Steve flushed, setting his last drink aside. He could feel he was drunk, but was still mostly lucid. "I uh..."

Thor laughed loudly. "The poor Captain! Worry not, we will try it all with you and see what you like best!"

Steve chuckled, watching Bruce clean up since he was still sober. The scientist managed to get everyone to their own beds, making sure they were all okay before leaving them to sleep. Steve caught his arm before Bruce left his room. "Bruce?"

"Hm? You okay?" Bruce asked, turning back to the blonde. Steve smiled, burying his face in his pillow. 

"...nothing. Just wanted to see your face again." 

Bruce smiled widely. "You're a cuddly drunk huh?" He laughed, petting Steve's hair. "Get some sleep Cap. See you tomorrow."

Steve nodded, already drifting off. The alcohol made him feel pleasantly warm. He'd missed being able to drink. 

Bruce left when he saw Steve's eyes close peacefully. He went to his own bed, feeling comforted knowing his team was asleep just down the hall. They were together now, _really_ together.

It was so unreal. But so perfect.

He slept better than he had in months that night. 

****

Come morning, Natasha woke to find Thor cooking for once. Clint and Tony were trying to help walk him through how to use Earth's appliances. She smiled when she saw each of them were sporting massive bedheads and no doubt headaches. Bruce was watching from over his cup of tea, as per usual. Only now he looked much more at ease than normal. 

She sat next to Bruce at the bar. "Where's Steve?"

Bruce yawned and shrugged. "Haven't seen 'im. JARVIS?"

"Captain Rogers left the building at nine am, sir."

That gave everyone pause. "Where has he gone?" Thor asked the ceiling, still unused to talking to...walls. 

"I believe he left a note on his door, should you come looking for him."

Tony went to grab the note, coming back with a smile on his face and he read it. Natasha snatched the note from Tony, impatient. 

"What does it say, Tash???" Clint asked, trying to read over her shoulder. Nat batted the archer away, reading aloud. 

" _"Don't worry this time, guys. I'll be back around noon. I went to the first therapist Tony and Bruce bookmarked on that list, since it was the one Tony said he went to a while ago_

_Thank you for last night. It was fun, and only reminded me why I want to be better for you all. You guys deserve better than me. So I'll be better. You wanted me to go talk to a therapist so I'm going. I'll let you know how it went when I get back, so you won't need to interrogate me!_

_See you soon, and I love you guys_

_-Steve_

_P.S: I haven't been hungover in seventy years. Thanks Thor!"_ "

The team all grinned as Thor bellowed with laughter. "Steven is truly a good partner! He has gone to the mind healer!"

Tony sighed. "I hope it works it for him. I know he didn't want to, but maybe it'll help...still, I'm proud of him for going. It takes guts, especially to muster the courage to go for the first time. And he did it for us. Because we asked." Tony would never admit it, but that fact warmed him. 

Natasha nodded. "You went to the same guy after Afghanistan, right?" Tony tensed slightly but nodded. "Then he should be just fine."

Bruce smiled and glanced to the note. "He has pretty handwriting. C'mon, lets go hang on his floor to greet him when he comes home." 

Clint grinned when they got to Steve's floor. "Hey, Tony, he drank to 'toys' last night, right??? We should order some for him. Leave them on his bed one day, watch his face when he opens the box. Try them out with him," he leered a little.

Tony smirked at the archer. "I think he only drank to the spreader bars actually...but that's still genius, Clint. Let's pick some out," he grabbed his tablet, going to the internet and to his favorite site. Bruce rolled his eyes as Natasha sighed, and Thor went to watch Clint and Tony curiously. They waited for Steve on his floor, feeling happier than they had in a long time. 

"Let's try that one, I wanna see his face when it vibrates!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all again for your patience and encouraging comments! I'm going to try and write more but I'll be on vacation for a while. Leave any suggestions or wants in the comments, and let me know how I'm doing! 
> 
> Thanks again and I hope you enjoyed the updates!
> 
> -J


	12. Another Step

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve's first therapy appointment doesn't go as hoped. But his team still isn't giving up on him, and so Steve isn't giving up either.

The other five Avengers were spread out around Steve’s floor. It had recently become more like the common floor. Tony was laying on his stomach, his tablet before him displaying a hologram of a new suit design. He picked apart the projection, muttering equations and numbers to himself. Clint and Thor were playing Super Smash Bros, while Natasha was reading a book in Russian. Bruce was watching the blondes play their game, a small smile stuck on his face. Having everyone together like this was so nice. Even more so because they were all waiting form Steve to get back from his first therapy appointment. They knew it would be hard on him, especially since it seemed like the man hadn’t ever truly opened up to anyone. Bruce knew that even though the others would deny it, (well, Thor wouldn’t, but still) they were here for Steve in case he needed them when he got back.

 They were all a little shocked to see Steve storm into his kitchen, pacing and looking just as pissed as when he’d heard racism and discrimination were still woefully common.

Tony raised his brows. “Went that well, hm? My first appointment resulted in a rather high blood alcohol content, so I get it.”

Before he even realized what he was doing, Steve slammed his fist into the counter, and a deep crack echoed before the counter split into four pieces, smashing the cabinets beneath it and crashing to the floor. Steve turned, shaking his now bleeding hand and cursing softly. Tony jumped up immediately, coming to Steve’s side.

”Steve! Jesus! That was two inch thick granite― aw, fuck, your hand…” the billionaire’s brows drew together when he saw the already swelling hand, bleeding knuckles, and no doubt broken bones. Steve glanced to it, flexing it curiously. He didn’t even seem to feel it.

The Captain shrugged. “Oddly enough I feel better now. Sorry about the counter.”

Tony laughed disbelievingly. “Of course he’s worried about the fucking _counter_ …”

Thor stood, forgetting about his character in their game of Super Smash Bros, who was hanging precariously from a ledge in the stage. “Steven, your hand is more important than the stone piece!”

Steve ran his good hand through his hair, huffing out a frustrated breath. “Whatever…” he shot Tony a simmering look. “I’m _never_ going back there,” the Captain hissed.

”Don’t be rash,” Nat said reasonably. “The first few appointments are always hard, you gotta give it a few tries before you―”

**_“No.”_ **

”…This is the most emotion you’ve shown in nearly a month, which is probably a good thing, but I’m not so sure about how good it is that you’re this pissed,” Clint said, mouth set in a slight grimace. Steve scoffed.

”You’re not wrong. Haze is much lighter than it’s been in a long time. But the doctor―he―” Steve cut himself off with a noise that was suspiciously close to a growl, letting himself slump into one of the chairs at the dining room table.

”Give him a chance, he’s a good guy, and has a lot of experi―”

”I’d rather drown all over again than go back to that bastard,” Steve said coldly. “And drowning was probably my worst choice of method, by the way. I don’t recommend it.”

Several eyes widened. Natasha kept her face carefully neutral. Emotions finally showing of not, Steve wasn’t helping anyone by being so pissed and cryptic. ”Take a breath, Steve.” The Captain blinked. Take a breath? Yeah…maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. He hadn’t taken a full one ever since the therapist had said due to his repressed feelings for Bucky, Steve had secretly enjoyed the “costumers” …. Steve gritted his teeth at the memory, but did take a deep breath after all. Soon the Captain let the tension bleed out of him a bit, leaning his elbow on the table and his head on his hand with a sigh.

”Forget it,” Steve muttered, sounding dull again.

”Oh no you don’t, don’t go back to being distant and shit!” Tony growled. Bruce came and sat at the table with Steve, and the others did the same. Steve idly wondered why they’d all been waiting on his floor anyway, when he’d gotten back.

”Look,” Bruce said, “you can’t assume everything based off the first visit. You’ve got to try.”

Steve scoffed. “Oh, I’m perfectly willing to try for your guys’ sake if nothing else. But I’m not willing to try with someone who thinks I _secretly enjoyed_ being beaten and raped at _ten years old!!!”_

For a moment, the Avengers could have heard a pin drop all the way down on the ground floor.

”….surely you misunderstood. Please tell me you misunderstood what he said,” Clint said dangerously.

”Ha! Yeah, no, I don’t think I did. And I’m more than willing to hear suggestions for how to feel better and whatever, but sorry for thinking getting used and sold against my will all over again isn’t the best way to do that!” Steve hissed, standing. He froze at the icy look in Natasha’s eyes.

”Sit. We’re not done talking about this.”

Reluctantly, after a moment, Steve sat. He poked at his hand idly, jaw tensing as he finally felt the pain from his outburst. Bruce frowned. “You need to get that set and braced… but we’ll make this quick. So, what happened?”

Steve was quiet, staring at the table.

But shit. He’d gone for them, to get better for them, to _be_ better for them. They deserved a better Captain and partner than this.

“He…he said. That because I was in love with Bucky. Repressing…feelings. For him.” Steve’s lip curled as he air quoted, Harboring “ _homosexual urges”_. Said that I must’ve secretly enjoyed…”

He couldn’t finish.

Thor slammed his fist on the other counter, breaking that one too. “ _Unacceptable!!!_ This man is no healer! He is a trickster! I—“

Steve interrupted, his voice soft. “He said the urges weren’t a good thing but are good to get out sometimes. And that since I enjoyed letting them out before by letting…letting all the customers use me that. That if it happened again now, it would be good for me. Since now I’m “healthy enough to handle it and not…not… break”.” There. They’d wanted to know. He hadn’t clammed up, he knew they hated that and it only made them worry more. So he’d explained. Had he done what they wanted? Did he do good…?

Bruce’s veins were glowing green, and Natasha had to start rubbing his back before they had an issue on their hands. Tony laughed. Actually laughed. “I can’t believe it. I chose the one doctor I thought would help and he. He. Oh my God.”

Clint glared at Tony. “Now is hardly the time to laugh! Are you really so insensitive?!”

“Of course not, Barton! Christ! I want to strangle Dr. Marsh about now!” Tony retorted.

Thor growled. “Enough squabbling! This helps our Captain naught!”

The booming voice jarred them all enough to break the rising tension. Steve stayed hunched in his chair. They were only fighting again because of him. Maybe he shouldn’t have explained…It’s always been better for him to clam up. Why would that change now?

But then Bruce came over to him, laying a hand on his shoulder. His veins weren’t green anymore. Steve met his eyes, a little hesitatingly. Bruce patted his shoulder gently.

“Thank you for telling us. But Steve… He was so _wrong_. So wrong. You don’t understand, therapists nowadays _help_ , that….that wasn’t helping, what he said.”

Steve nodded slightly. “Sure.” Maybe he shouldn’t go to a therapist after all…

“No, Steve, you have to get this,” Clint said, near to shaking with rage towards that doctor. “Being gay or bi or _whatever_ isn’t bad at all, for starters. And no one would enjoy…Jesus Christ. It wouldn’t matter if it _did_ happen again, that wouldn’t be good for **_anyone_** , what the _fuck_ , I’m gonna fucking maim him, I swear to f—“

He forced himself to stop rambling when Thor gave him a look. Thor knew how much the enraged words upset Steve, when he was low and emotionally… raw, like this.

Tony sat next to Steve, on top of the table. Steve glanced up to him. “I’m so sorry I sent you to such a shitty doctor. I went to him myself, he was helpful even though he’s a bit blunt. But…shit, I’m sorry. He was fucking wrong, and he’s gonna regret ever becoming a therapist for this.”

Steve nodded mutely. Natasha frowned. She hated to see him in such pain, especially when it made him draw inward like this. “Steve?”

“I get it, it’s fine. He was wrong.” Steve parroted. He stood, just wanting to forget this had ever happened. But the memories the doctor’s words had brought back…they were like waves. And Steve…. Steve couldn’t swim. “I’ll just…I’m going to bed now.”

“Not until I at least clean your hand and put it in a brace!” Bruce protested. Steve sighed, sitting back down.

“Fine, fine. No cast though, it’ll be fine in a few days so there’s no point.”

Bruce rolled his eyes but relented, going to get the supplies he needed quickly. While he was gone, the others started talking idly, hoping to distract Steve a bit. Their Captain was lost in his head though, only half paying attention and giving one word answers. His eyes were lost staring at nothing, lost years in the past. Even as Bruce came back and cleaned, bandaged, and braced his broken hand, Steve didn’t react much. Bruce kissed his forehead again softly, smiling when the precious baby blues finally flicked to look in the present. At him.

“We love you. You can go get some rest now, but please…come to any of us if you need something, okay?”

Steve nodded, a ghost of a smile appearing on his face. Those words…well. They eased his mind just a little. They never seemed too bothered by him, after all, so if he _did_ go to them…maybe they wouldn’t punish him for it. Maybe he really wouldn’t be a bother. And the kiss made his heart beat just a bit faster, made him relax unconsciously. Bruce’s lips were so soft…

The Avengers let Steve head to bed, glad he’d explained what had happened to them. He may have been acting numb and distant again, but…after what Steve had said, they couldn’t exactly blame him. They stayed to talk a little, and Tony immediately went to his tablet to find better therapists for Steve to choose from. A while later, Tony finally spoke up, still scrolling through possible doctors.

“I can’t believe I fell for that fool’s credentials, I’ll pick better this time,” He mumbled as he worked. Bruce laid a hand on Tony’s shoulder, kissing his head softly.

“Don’t be hard on yourself, Tony. You couldn’t have known.”

“I went to him, for a while, after Afghanistan. But…shit, I mean, he’s apparently great at everything except helping with sexual abuse, that asshole, I’m gonna make sure he regrets even getting a damn license—“

“Tony,” Natasha said softly. She didn’t have to say anything more. The billionaire sighed and kept searching on his tablet. Clint returned from the kitchen with snacks, and Thor started the movie after only a few fumbles with the remote.

The team was only paying half attention to the movie though. After Tony completed his list, he asked, “So, what do we do now?”

“Just keep being here for him, really. What else is there _to_ do?” Clint said, finishing his second bowl of popcorn already.

“Are we even helping him…?” Tony asked solemnly. Thor immediately perked up.

“Of course we are! His spirits are higher, though not yet healed! But he needs his shield brothers and sister! His lovers!”

They all smiled at that, and Natasha patted Thor’s arm. “Well said, big guy.”

Bruce looked thoughtful. “….Speaking of lovers. I…well. Should we talk to him about that? I mean, sex? He’s not opposed to it, obviously.” Natasha glared at Tony when he leered, clearly lost in some good memories. “But surely we need to talk about if he’s okay with trying everything we brought up in that drinking game?”

“Tomorrow? It’s one am, Bruce.”

Bruce looked at the clock. “Oh shit, it is. When did that happen??”

“After we sat here for three hours while Tony searched through God-knows-how-many therapists,” Natasha said, amused.

“Dr. Banner and Anthony have no sense of Midgardian time, it would seem!” Thor laughed.

“Well let’s talk what kinks to try first, since we’re on the topic~” Tony suggested. Sue him, he was eager. Clint rolled his eyes.

“You’re unreal, dude, shouldn’t we wait until Steve’s here?”

“The guy needs sleep, you know tha—“

Tony was interrupted by a somewhat faint scream from down the hall.  Immediately, everyone tensed. As they all sprang up, Clint hissed, “You jinxed it, Tony! Jesus Christ!”

“Well _I’m_ sorry!” Tony cried, half sarcastic. He was running to Steve’s room with the others now. Another, more pained scream echoed to them as they rounded the corner and wondered why the fuck Steve’s room was so far down the hall.

The Avengers ran through the doorway to find Steve tossing and turning in bed, eyes squeezed shut. “No, no no no no _please_ , stop, _please,_ I’m sorry _, I’m sorry!”_

Thor was the first one in the room, instantly rushing to wake Steve up. Bruce held him back though. “Don’t he might lash out again, we don’t want to make him panic—“

Steve made an _awful_ noise then, a half choked scream that ended in a sob. “No! No, no…” He bolted up with a shout, eyes wide. It was dark in the room despite the open door, and Steve looked up and only saw shadowed silhouettes in his doorway. He flinched hard, making a tiny noise in the back of his throat and scrambling until his back slammed into the headboard. Steve could barely draw a breath, his chest tight and aching sharply. “N-no! I-I-I’m sorry, I-I d—please, _please_ , no, n—“

“Steve, Steve, calm down, it’s just us, you’re safe!” Clint tried, wishing he was a super soldier. If he was, he could go hold the blonde and not worry about getting punched through a wall.

Steve couldn’t see their faces, though, even though he recognized Clint’s voice. He gasped, trying to breathe through the pain in his chest and it didn’t work, he couldn’t breathe, the voice was familiar, but it was probably just a returning customer like in his dream, and he was helpless all over again, there were five of them, he had P.E. tomorrow, and he’d fail again because of it, and be called weak again, and he couldn’t _breathe…!!_ He couldn’t handle this again, he couldn’t! He couldn’t, no, no, no no no nonono…

Thor cursed and decided fuck it, going to Steve and yanking him to his chest. Steve shouted again, struggling, feeling small against his broad chest and like a weak child all over again. But Thor wasn’t hurt by Steve’s flying fists or his shoves, he merely held tight, trying to get the man to breathe.

“Steven, hush, it’s us, it’s your lovers, we will not harm you, please…”

“Please, no, I can’t, please, please pleasepleasepleaseI’msorryIcan—“ a gasp, and then instead of fighting Thor and babbling Steve was gasping for air worse than before. He winced on every inhale and his gasps sounded harsh and shallow. Tony got the hint, turning the lights on to a low setting.

“Steve, Steve, it’s us, you’re safe, I promise,” the billionaire said softly. He didn’t even want to know what the dream was about to trigger this, and make Steve so terrified of them…

The Captain blinked several times at them, seeming to not comprehend. He kept gasping for air, shaking hard now. He shook his head, trying to shove Thor away again. This time he put all his strength behind it, and finally Thor let go, thinking it might be best to give Steve space.

But the Captain only moved farther away from them, still trembling hard. He managed to yell between strained gasps. “Go--!” A choked breath. “Away--!”

“Steve, no, let us help!” Clint said, frowning hard. Steve shook his head, bringing his knees to his chest.

“Go….away! Don’t…need to see…go ‘way…leave me alone!” Steve sounded both pissed and scared. His breaths turned into wheezes as he began near hyperventilating, his brow creased form the pain in his chest and lungs.

“Breathe, just breathe, we’re here and not hurting you, see?” Natasha tried, holding up her hands. Steve merely shook his head, backing into the headboard of his bed. He curled into a ball, crossing his ankles and hiding his face in his knees. He clamped his hands over his head, effectively blocking out the world as best he could. Bruce stepped forward, hoping he could get Steve to uncurl and calm down.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, we—“

“Go away!” Steve yelled, not moving. His breaths were a little better as he forced himself to breathe properly. He didn’t want his team to see him like this! He just wanted to hide, like he used to in his closet, behind the coats and boxes and where no one could see or hurt him. It was safe there. He wanted to go back there.

“We’re not leaving you when you’re like this, Steve, you need help. C’mon, let’s just—“ But Steve interrupted again, this time sounding pissed.

“Get out! You don’t need to see this! Just get _out!”_ He’d been alone every other time this happened. Why should now be any different?

“No, Cap, just let u—“

_“Go!!”_

This time everyone but Natasha flinched back a little. Nat bit the inside of her cheek hard to keep any emotion from showing. Steve wasn’t moving now, breathing still strained as he stayed in a ball. It was clear to her trained eye that the position was a familiar one for him. It protected his head, and let him block out everything around him…She turned and ushered the team towards the door.

“Let’s go. He wants to be alone.” She understood Steve wasn’t going to listen right now. She hated to leave him, but…they were only making him panic more, right now. He needed to calm down and let _himself_ accept help.

“But he needs--!”

“Stark, shut your mouth. We need to give him space.” Natasha managed to shove Clint and Bruce out, then Tony. She turned to Thor and fixed the god with a glare.

“Steven trusts me. Us. He needs his shield brothers and sister.”

“He does. But not right now. He won’t calm down unless he’s alone.” Thor looked to the Captain, noting his prone form. Steve had stayed in the ball he’d curled into, not moving. Thor’s heart ached, but finally he relented and left. Natasha turned to Steve.

“I get it, Steve. I’m sorry. When you’re ready, we’ll be here. We love you.” And she left, leaving the door cracked a little. She walked out to where the others were sitting in the living room, expressions a bit vacant. She knew why. Steve’s terrified ramblings and screaming and wheezing was echoing in her ears too.

But she acted, getting everyone their food and putting on a movie. It was one of Steve’s favorites. She left the volume up a bit so the blonde could hear it through his cracked door. Maybe it would draw him out after a little while.

After the first two movies, JARVIS spoke up. “Captain Rogers has been in his closet for approximately ninety-eight minutes. I determined you would want to know this, as it is unusual behavior. He has only ever done this after particularly bad night terrors.”

A beat passed. “Why did you not tell me sooner how bad his nightmares were?! We could’ve helped sooner!!” Tony snapped at his AI.

“Your privacy protocols prevented it, sir.”

 Tony stood, fed up. He had to do _something_ to help! “I’m calling the other therapist. The new one. If she can get him to come out and talk to us, then maybe she’ll work better than the other asshole.”

“Tony, give him more time, he’ll come out eventually,” Clint reasoned. He now realized, no longer panicking for Steve, that Natasha was right. They needed to let Steve calm down and collect himself.

“Clint, I used to do what he did,” Tony hissed. “I was always safe under my bed, from my dad. The only time I did that as an adult was after Afghanistan, after a panic attack so bad I passed out. If he’s doing that…then he. Needs. Our. Help. He—“ Tony’s voice actually cracked, making the others realize just how deeply Tony cared for Steve. How desperately he wanted to take such pain away from their Captain. Their Steve.

“He needs us.” The billionaire’s voice was softer than they’d heard in a long time.

Bruce stood as well. “I’ll call her for you. What’s her name?”

Tony breathed out in relief that they finally understood they needed to do something to help, not just sit around. Natasha was right, Steve needed space at first, but now…now, he needed his team. He needed them.

And they’d always be there when he did.

“Her name’s Olivia Griffon.”

****

Steve had been in the closet for a while now. (He thought that should be funny, what with that expression Tony said people used nowadays. It kind of wasn’t that funny though.) Usually it was safe to come out after only a half hour. The customers and Pa quickly assumed he’d snuck out his window, and would leave in a huff. But Steve stayed, ashamed of his breakdown in front of his team. His newfound lovers, even. God that was still so surreal and amazing to think. Still, Steve didn’t want to go out, face the pitied stares, and concerned voices, the careful treading around him, like he was made of glass. So Steve stayed in the closet, where it’d always been safe.

The Captain started when he heard a strange voice, and someone walking into his room. His team always knocked…

“Hey, Steve? Can I come in?”

He had to stay quiet, or else they’d find him, and hurt him, hold him down and…Steve shut his eyes tightly. This was 2012. He was strong now. He was safe here…

“……..Who’re you?” The female voice was soft and smooth. Unfamiliar.

“My name’s Olivia. But my friends and brother call me Olive. I want to come sit with you, if it’s okay?”

Steve sniffled. He huddled a little smaller in the corner of the closet. That was an odd request. And he still didn’t know who exactly she was. But hey, what the hell. “Sure,” he said softly. The door slid open, and he saw a head of red hair sit on the other end of the closet and slide the door closed again. It was too dark to get a look at her face.

“It’s cozy in here.”

“Yeah, guess so.”

They sat for a long while. Finally Steve asked, “Why are you in here?”

“Because you are,” Olivia replied.

Steve scoffed a little. “Yeah. I’m a coward.”

“I don’t think so. Why do you say that?”

“I’m Captain America. And I’m hiding in a closet.”

“Mhm,” nonchalant. “Why’s that?”

“….”

“It’s not like I’m gonna judge you. I’m hiding in a closet too, you know.”

Steve laughed slightly at that. This dame was something else.

“Well. I uh. Was always safe. In my closet. No one could um…find me if I. You know. Kept still enough. And quiet.”

“Yeah? No one could hurt you?”

“…yeah.” Why was he telling her this? It just seemed so easy to.

“No one here will hurt you though, so why are you in here?”

Steve shifted. “…scared.” It was a tiny voice.

“Of what?”

“…just…scared.” His throat closed up, and Steve felt mortified. What was wrong with him?!

“Well you don’t have to be scared anymore. This isn’t like before. I’m not going to hurt you, and neither is your team. They’re just worried about you. You wanna go talk to them?”

“…no…they’ll be mad. And sad. My fault.” He’d caused so much stress, and now look at him. Terrified to leave a fucking closet. He really should’ve jumped before they came to find him on the roof a few weeks ago.

“I don’t think they’ll be upset at you. And if they are, I’ll beat them up for you. Deal?”

Steve chuckled a little.  “You’re funny.”

“I try.”

He chuckled more, finally letting himself relax slightly. His back hurt sharply from being hunched so tightly for so long. He didn’t feel in danger here, Tony never let anyone suspicious into the tower. He…he trusted his team. If they’d sent Olivia to come get him, then she was trustworthy, and they were worried for him He had to go to them, had to face them… “I guess…if I won’t hurt them anymore. Then I can go talk to them.”

“Sounds good.” Rustling, and Olivia stood. She opened the door, and Steve blinked against the light. He took her hand and stood, back cracking. He winced as he walked out, letting her shut the door so he couldn’t go back in. Steve looked around, the room feeling huge after so long in the closet. Finally, he turned to Oliva, getting a good look at her face for the first time.

She was gorgeous. Looked like she could be Pepper’s sister, really. Her hair was a natural rusty red, longer than her shoulders and wavy. Her features were soft, but her cheekbones and jaw were sharp. The freckles only added spice to her features, and her eyes were soft yet so piercing. She smiled, lips reminding Steve of Peggy’s, the one and only time he’d seen them without lipstick on. Pink and full and pretty. She was a bit short, and rather thin, but had enough muscle that Steve figured she wasn’t to be underestimated due to her size. Her body moved gracefully and confidently.

“Come, let’s go see your team,” Olivia said, putting a gentle hand on Steve’s lower back. She led him to the door, but Steve stopped when he got to the doorframe.

“They…all I did was scare them. Stress them and worry them and. I can’t. I…” He couldn’t explain. Couldn’t get the words out, as usual. They just stuck in his throat and tangled and ended up twisting the knot in his chest tighter and tighter……

But Olivia’s eyes, watching his all the time, seemed to gather enough. Perhaps it was from what little Steve had said? Or rom his actions?

“You’re ashamed. To have broken down from a mere dream? To have hidden? To hurt them by pushing them away again?”

Surprised baby blues met Olivia’s aquamarine ones. The redhead laughed, a deeper chuckle than Steve would’ve expected from such a small dame.

“I’m good at reading people, Steve, that’s why I’m so good at my job.”

Steve cocked his head to the side. “Your job?”

“I’m a psychiatrist and psychologist. Professional clinical counseling, all that jazz,” Olivia said waving her hand dismissively. “But please, don’t let that intimidate you. We met on equal grounds, in a closet, after all. I’m just Olivia to you. Or Olive, if you like. We’ll be talking time to time, as friends, I hope.” And she flashed Steve a smile that, oddly enough, began to ease his frayed nerves.

So the others had sent a new therapist to come get him…well, she certainly seemed better than Dr. Marsh. That was for sure. Still, Steve didn’t know how he felt about talking to someone. Especially after…everything that had happened today.

Olivia yawned. “Come, let’s go. Your team needs you, so let’s not keep them waiting.”

Steve took a couple deep breaths, figuring that yeah, okay, he couldn’t hide from his team forever. And he was oddly comfortable around Olivia, so hell, he’d try her as his next therapist. According to Tony it wasn’t something to be so ashamed of anymore…He’d give it another go. For his team. For his lovers. He owed them that much, at the very least.

Steve followed Olivia now, out into the living room. He kept glancing around at the floor though, not meeting any of his team’s eyes.

Olivia led him to the couch though, and Nat threaded her fingers through his own. He dared to meet her eyes, and…saw no judgment there. The others…. there was no judgement in their eyes either. No anger, just…love? Dare he think it…?

“Talk to us?” Bruce asked softly.

Olivia sat on the beanbag. “Don’t mind me. I’ll be here to help you explain if need be, Steve.”

Steve noticed, when Natasha started stroking the back of his hand lightly, that his hands were trembling a little. He swallowed, and…tried to trust them. Tried to let go, where he’d always held on so tightly, so that he could talk and share his feelings and closely guarded secrets.

“I…I’m sorry. I just um. Nightmares sometimes. I confuse reality? With. Yeah. If you ever um…wake me from one…turn on the light, so…I can see it’s…you.”

Surely they’d already realize, just from that, that Steve was a lost cause, they’d leave him, he couldn’t handle being alone again, and………!!

But they nodded. Nodded! Of all things! They didn’t push or harm, didn’t sneer or shout, they just…nodded! “Okay,” Clint said, like it was the easiest thing.

“But why were you in the small clothes room?” Thor asked, confused. Steve felt a humiliated bush heat the tips of his ears.

“I…Pa and any c…customers. Always assumed I’d snuck out my window, if…I hid in my closet. If I was quiet enough. I didn’t mean to, not really, it’s just. Sometimes um. Automatic. I guess.” It…slowly wasn’t so hard to force the words out, as he kept talking. His chest…the tight knot in it almost seemed to be loosening.

Olivia spoke up then. “Good start, guys. Your communication needs work, but hey, a start is a start. I’m gonna take my leave now, if it’s okay. It’s two a.m., and you all need rest. Especially after a panic attack.” Steve tensed slightly, knowing and hating that she was referring to him. “Steve, come see me tomorrow. I want you in twice a week for a little while, m’kay?”

Steve nodded mutely. He felt a bit numb A bit surreal. Was any of this even happening?

The others could tell Steve was barely with it though, and yeah, their eyes were heavy-lidded too. So perhaps a fresh start tomorrow morning wouldn’t be a bad idea…

Tony tugged Steve up by his free hand, and Nat reluctantly let go of his other one. “Sounds good. Thank you so much, Dr. Griffon.”

Olivia waved Tony off as she stood and headed towards the elevator. “Please, call me Olivia. It’s no trouble at all, I’m always glad to help! Have a good night, everyone.”

She left, and Tony gently guided Steve down the hall to his own room. Clint huffed. Thor and now Tony got Steve cuddles, but he still hadn’t had his turn yet! Not fair. Natasha was quietly simmering at having Steve tugged right out of her hand. She didn’t like touching, really, but…Steve was warm, sue her.

Steve paused before Tony could tug him into bed, confused. Tony shrugged, turning around to get on pajamas as if he wasn’t trying to avoid eye contact. “Just figured you’d like my bigger bed, is all, and you know, softer sheets and such. Just come to bed, idiot.”

Steve smiled at that, and Tony felt his shoulders relax at the rare sight. The blonde merely took off his shirt before sliding between the three thousand thread count Egyptian silk sheets. He didn’t question when Tony tried to subtly scoot to lay closer than he really needed to.

“Thank you,” Steve said, so sincere it made Tony’s heart thump a little harder.

“Don’t thank me, Capsicle. It’s nothing. It’s fine.” Hmph. Stupid Spangles.

Steve grinned then, though Tony couldn’t see it in the dim room.

It _was_ fine.

…He really wasn’t alone after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed~
> 
> Thank you all so much for the reviews, by the way. The comments make my day and give me the motivation to keep writing and stick with this story till the end!
> 
> -J


	13. Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve's making progress on shaky legs, but it's progress nonetheless.

It had been two weeks since Steve started seeing Olivia. He’d been to her four times already, and each time he came home the Avengers half expected to see their Captain break down once more. Instead, Steve would return with shoulders tense from speaking of things he never thought he’d speak of. He’d return with his eyes distant, lost in memories he’d tried hard to ignore. He’d refuse dinner, or not show up to movie nights, instead going for long runs or draw for hours in his studio.

But one day, after getting home, Steve had been greeted by Tony and Bruce arguing over their latest project. Meanwhile, Natasha was showing Thor how to take apart and reassemble a gun in under a minute, and Clint setting up a game of Monopoly while trying desperately to keep dinner from burning, complaining that he couldn’t cook so why wasn’t anyone helping him??

Steve smiled, then. And it made Tony and Bruce pause in their arguments and the others stop and smile back. Steve remembered why he was suffering through this whole therapy thing. It wasn’t like before, when he’d have been thrown in a padded room. No, rather, Olivia was kind and understanding, funny and flawed. Human. Steve could feel comfortable around her, could connect with her, even as she encouraged him to delve into the past he tried to ignore. And Steve was doing this for his family. His lovers. His new team.

They loved him. Each told him at least once a day. Except Natasha. She’d just ruffle his hair or point out what he was to eat and when, to make sure he ate enough. And well, Clint usually just told Steve he was an idiot. And Tony usually just kissed him, said he couldn’t resist now that his teenage fantasies of making out with Captain America had come true. But Steve knew what they meant.

So he decided he’d keep going to talk with Olivia. He’d take Oliver up on his offer for lunch, and go out with Sam sometime too. He’d live for them. They deserved so much more than him, but damn if Steve wouldn’t try to give them everything they deserved in a Captain, partner, and friend.

The team could see Steve had been struggling, lately. They saw the faint red lines on his arms, where he’d unconsciously scratch when he longed for his blades back. But instead of mentioning it they simply offered to show him what amusements parks were now like, or take him to his first 3D movie. And before long, they got to see more of Steve’s bashful, cute smiles. They may have been fleeting and small, but they were there.

It was a start. And the Avengers could all work with a start.

****

Steve rose a brow when he rounded the corner into the common floor’s living room. There were four men there, lifting a huge piano carefully padded and wrapped onto a slightly raised part of the floor. It was right in front of the window, which took up two entire walls, floor to ceiling. The view was amazing, and the large piano made a gorgeous centerpiece in the living room.

The Captain watched as Tony paid the men and then unwrapped the piano, idly pouring a glass of orange juice. He walked into the room, paying no mind when he heard the others drag themselves into the kitchen for breakfast.

“Why’d you get a piano, Tony?” He asked. “You play?”

The billionaire turned to him and smiled. “Morning, Cap. Nah, I got lessons as a kid but after I took the piano apart for parts for my engine, my mom gave up on me becoming a musician.” Steve chuckled. “I just thought it was pretty,” Tony continued. “It’s vintage, refurbished and I had it painted fresh.”

Steve took in the polished surface, and the ornate designs on it as Bruce came over to admire it as well. “Sure looks ritzy. Why buy it if no one can play though?”

“It makes a good centerpiece,” Tony shrugged. “I already have a couple of my cars as centerpieces on other floors, so.”

Steve rolled his eyes, hearing Natasha shout an expletive about how Tony threw too much money around. The blonde looked at the gleaming white keys, and a sad look crossed his face.

Bruce noticed. “Steve?”

Steve let the memories come, like Olivia had recommended. Instead of shoving them away or letting them cloud his mind, he simply…let himself remember. And focused on the present, instead. He set his juice on the coffee table, then went to the padded bench, sitting. He hadn’t sat in front of a piano is so many years…

The blonde’s fingers ghosted over the keys, his mind occupied with more positive memories. He swallowed, then turned to Tony and quietly asked, “Do you mind...?”

Tony looked surprised. “You play?” Clint and Thor, who had sat on the couch to play a game, (while Natasha had followed to mediate so they didn’t start another fight, like last time) now glanced up in curiosity.

Steve shrugged, looking back to the keys and to the elegant strings under the propped-up lid. “A little. Just a couple songs, really. Ma taught me, when she had time. Her grandmother had a piano that’d been passed down each generation, and well, yeah. I tried to write a song even, but it didn’t turn out, really. I’m not too good at it.”

Thor perked. “A musician is a musician! All are talented to coax melodies from such instruments, ‘tis not an easy feat! You must play for us, Steven!”

Steve glanced to Thor, a bit shy. “Well, I don’t…”

Tony waved it off, though, sitting on the back of the couch and sipping at his third cup of coffee. “By all means, Spangles, play whenever you like. I’m glad it’ll get some use after all. And if you suck, I’ll just have JARVIS record you and post it on Twitter.” He winked, earning a remote thrown at him from Natasha.

Steve ran a nervous hand through his hair, feeling the haze try to congeal in his chest again. Trying to suffocate him again. “I don’t know, I mean…”

Clint noticed the familiar fogginess in Steve’s eyes. “What is it?” He asked in a way that Steve knew Clint could tell there was something holding him back.

Steve, in testament to the progress he was making, only fell silent for about thirty seconds before answering, instead of making his team drag the answer out of him. “I uh. I haven’t played since I was eight. Pa… didn’t care for me playing. Thought piano and drawing was too girly. Was disappointed I couldn’t go out and play ball or anything cause of my asthma.”

“Well he’s not here to give you shit for a hobby that’s not girly at all, by the way, so play for us,” Bruce said.

Steve huffed a laugh that didn’t have a ton of humor in it. “I haven’t played since he smashed my face into the keys. And then broke my ribs. And the piano. By throwing me into it slamming the lid on me.” They wanted him to talk, be more open with them. So he mustered up the courage to let go of memories like this.

Steve tensed slightly when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Bruce had come over, and his expression soft. “You didn’t deserve that. I’m sorry.”

Steve shrugged again, not wanting to argue about that. Tony growled slightly. He could only picture a tiny Steve, helpless and abused so cruelly for what? For _what?!_ He’d been a sweet kid, Tony was certain! No child deserved that! Especially not Steve, who was gentle and kind and bright…

Natasha spoke up then, for the first time. “Play.” Steve’s gaze flicked to hers, but her eyes weren’t demanding, simply…firm.

He turned back to the keys, feeling the smooth surface on his fingertips. It made his gut twist, drawing all the memories of when his father had yanked him bodily away from it, trying to stop him from practicing by throwing him to the floor, or stomping on his fingers. All the beatings because of it, the pain on his mother’s face when she’d seen the broken piano, hiding what had really happened to spare her the guilt of having been the one to teach Steve in the first place…

The Captain pressed down, and felt that knot of anxiety loosen just a bit. The soft notes didn’t seem like much, but…to play them, after so long without being able to play…it was amazing. Steve smiled softly, remembering why he’d always loved the lessons, and now recalling the smiles and laughs he’d shared with his mother on the bench. The team felt their hearts ache at the expression on Steve’s face, knowing that for him, those tiny notes were a declaration. A step forward, in a way.

Steve began to play slow, simple notes. They made an easy song when strung together, and were good for reuniting him with the instrument after so many years. The Avengers went back to what they’d been doing, mulling about the common room like normal. But now, they all enjoyed the easy background music being played for them. Steve may not be playing anything amazing, but the soft notes were relaxing nonetheless. Steve didn’t mind not being watched. Preferred it, even. It allowed him to focus on the feeling of the keys on his fingers and the pedals under his feet rather than the eyes on him.

The anxiety in him eased more with each note he played. Soon, Steve felt the tension leave his shoulders and allowed himself to relax fully into the music. No one here would hurt him for this. He could have this. They _wanted_ him to play, even. Just like his mother’s friends, who’d clapped and laughed with him as he’d practiced and messed up, and told him how cute and impressive it was that he’d started playing at only five.

Steve let himself flow easily into the rest of the song. It was Beethoven. One of his favorite movements; Pathetique. While it started off slow and almost too simple, it soon picked up the pace into an upbeat and light tune. When Steve go to that part, his team immediately turned back to him, eyes a bit wide. _This_ was what Steve considered “not too good”?!

The blonde didn’t notice that, though. He had memorized plenty of songs, much to his mother’s surprise. She’d had to sell their sheet music to make rent, but she’d had years to memorize all the songs. Steve, on the other hand, had managed to fully memorize them after being walked through and playing them several times. Steve effortlessly fell into the rest of the song, as it sped up even more and went from simple to complex and quick. He’d played this one so many times, it was second nature by now. His ma would always ask him to play it when she got home after long shifts, exhausted and the sound of her son playing the only thing that would make her smile at that point.

By the end of the song Steve is much more relaxed, the piano always easing his anxiety. Tony was immediately sitting beside him on the bench, bumping shoulders with him.

“Steve! That’s incredible! How did you memorize Beethoven of all things?? And such a long song too!”

The captain turned a slight shade of pink at the praise. “Oh, um, well, I just. You know, played it so many times.”

Thor’s smile was wide. “Midgardian music is quite unique, I find your playing enjoyable, Steven. Play another?”

Steve felt his hands start to shake again though, and he shook his head a little. “Not right now.” The blond stood, and Natasha walked up to him, grabbing his hand gently.

“Talk to us, about Dr. Griffon. How have you been lately?”

Steve tensed up, feeling his chest tighten in what Olivia had called ‘anxiety’. He didn’t want to talk about this right now…he had to go to an appointment with her later today, he just…didn’t want to have to think about what a mess he was for a little while…

“It’s difficult. Not helping a ton. But she’s nice,” Steve said, answering as best he could. Clint though, noticed how tense Steve was.

“Did playing upset you? You didn’t need to play for us if—

“No no,” Steve stopped him, “It’s nothing, it’s really fine.” He scratched idly at his arm through his shirt sleeves without thinking. Immediately everyone’s eyes looked to him arms, and Nat glared up at him.

The redhead pushed Steve’s sleeve up, and the blond didn’t try to stop her. He’d been good lately, not even scratching when he wanted to and following Olivia’s advice of distracting himself instead. When he heard Tony curse though and Thor’s sad noise, Steve looked down, confused. His eyes widened when he saw the nasty red lines and torn skin all over his forearm.

Steve brought his arm up a little closer to his face, blinking. “I…wait, okay, wha—”

“Steve, we told you to come for help when…” Bruce said sadly. Steve shook his head quickly, pushing his other sleeve up and finding even worse scratches. Most were scabs because they’d broken skin. Natasha noticed how confused Steve was and coked her head.

“What is it?”

The captain swallowed hard, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I…I didn’t? I don’t know when I did this, I swear, it wasn’t on purpose…”

Bruce looked concerned. “You did it unconsciously?”

Steve shrugged. “Apparently?”

“You probably did it when you were asleep,” Clint said. “Or maybe while you were awake, and you just didn’t notice.”

Steve sighed heavily, pushing his sleeves back down. He’d thought he’d been doing well lately…

”Whatever…”

“It’s not whatever,” Tony protested, “you—”

“How can you expect me to stop when I do it unconsciously, Tony?!” Steve demanded, clearly upset with himself. “You tell me to come talk to you when I want to, or to distract myself, and I try so damn hard just so you won’t get upset that I still want to turn to my knives so often! But it doesn’t even matter because I can’t stop myself!” Steve’s outburst earned half sad and half worried looks.

“Steve…”

The blond waved it off though. “I don’t care anymore, I’m going to the gym, sorry for snapping at you…” as he walked towards the elevator, though, he swayed and caught himself on the corner of a wall. Bruce was soon next to Steve. A hand on his back. “Are you okay??”

Steve shook his head as if to shake something off, nodding. “Sorry, just got lightheaded, I’m fine…” When he stood back up straight, though, he ended up stumbling and within seconds he hit the ground. Thor and Natasha were immediately running up to him, and Tony seemed panicked.

“What the hell!”

“Bruce, he’s never passed out unless he was hurt, the serum won’t let it happen!”

“I know that, fuck, I don’t know!”

“His breathing is fine, why the hell did he pass out?!”

“I told you I don’t—!!”

It was barely over a minute later that Steve’s eyes fluttered open, and he groaned. “Uh…?”

“Steve!”

“Are you alright??”

The captain frowned, sitting up on his elbows and ignoring the hands that tried to push him back down. “Why am I on the floor…?” He seemed dazed and confused.

“You passed out, care to tell us why??” Clint said.

Steve blinked slowly. He sat up fully now, then got up, batting away Bruce’s worried hands. “I’m fine, I’m fine, I was just dizzy or something…”

“Idiot, with the serum if you’re passing out you’re definitely not fine!” Tony said, crossing his arms. Thor wrapped an arm around Steve’s waist to steady him, knowing if he tried to carry his captain he’d only complain.

“Come, let the healers see to you.”

Steve opened his mouth to protest, but shut it once he saw the worry underneath the stubborn gazes of his team. He sighed, relenting and letting them guide him to the elevator, trying his best not to lean on Thor. He kept swaying though, wondering why the room was tilting. And well, Thor was steady.

Steve sat on one of the beds on the medical floor, watching disinterestedly while Bruce took his blood pressure, temperature, and blood. He’d barely noticed he’d been feeling weak and lightheaded, so focused the past few days on fighting the urge to harm himself for his team’s sake.

Before long, Bruce ended up figuring out what was wrong. He wasn’t a physician by any means, but he had more than enough basic knowledge. The others, who’d followed them down, perked up when Bruce walked back over to Steve and promptly smacked him gently over the head. Clint choked on a laugh, and Natasha held back a smirk.

“What the hell?” Steve asked, looking Bruce straight in the eye since he was sitting on the edge of the bed. Bruce was never violent, so why…?

The scientist was glaring at Steve now. “You’re an asshole, you know that? You’ve been starving yourself. Your blood sugar is way too low, and you’re dehydrated.”

Steve blinked at the news. Natasha was over to him in seconds, tilting his head to look her in the eye. “You haven’t been listening when I tell you to eat?” She demanded, hurt. Not that she’d show she was hurt by it, coming across as stern instead.

The captain seemed confused. “No, I have! I thought I was eating enough…?”

“You clearly haven’t been,” Tony grumbled. Thor spoke up then.

“What did you eat last, Captain?”

“Uhh…I had the fish Clint tried to make yesterday, and made everyone breakfast this morning?”

The room was quiet or a moment, before Nat said, “Clint cooked two days ago. And you cooked three days ago.”

Steve felt his arms itch, and he clenched his hands to stop himself from scratching at them. “What…I…are you sure?”

“Yes, Steven, you did not come to dinner yesterday, you were out on one of your runnings,” Thor said, tone a bit sad.

“So you haven’t eaten in two days??” Bruce demanded. Steve hid his flinch well.

“I? I thought I did? I don’t know, I’m sorry, I haven’t been hungry, so I assumed I ate, I just…didn’t remember…” He seemed embarrassed to explain how distorted and blurry his memory really got, when he wasn’t feeling his best.

Clint frowned deeply. “Your memory is really that bad…?”

Steve looked down in shame. “Only…when the haze gets real dark. I learned French in days during the war, my memory is really good thanks to the serum, so…”

Bruce was already talking about how Steve needed to start showing up to dinner every night so they could make sure he ate enough, and explaining exactly how many calories his body needed with how fast the serum burned them. Steve sighed, and it was such a discouraged sound that it gave Bruce pause in his concerned rambles.

They stopped focusing on how worried they were for a few moments, instead taking in Steve’s appearance. His skin was a bit pale from a lack of food, and he was hunched of all things. Usually he stood and sat straight and proud. Seeing him hunched and withdrawn was…odd. His nails were now digging into his wrist, a motion they could see him keep stopping then starting again, clearly fighting with himself and his automatic actions. He’d been more open with them lately, going to his therapy appointments, and hell, just trying so hard for them. He was clearly emotionally exhausted.

And right now, Steve just looked and sounded so _done._

Tony spring into action, dragging Steve back to the common floor while pulling out his cell phone. He paid no mind to Steve’s and the other’s questions.

“Hi, Olivia, darling? Yes, it’s yours truly. No, he’s aright, he hasn’t been remembering to eat so he’s not feeling well. He’s taking today off and won’t be to your appointment later. You’ll still be paid, of course. Come by and visit sometime, babe, you know how much I love redheads.”

As Tony hung up the others could hear cursing and laughing coming from his phone speakers. Steve seemed a bit shocked. “Uh, Tony, maybe you shouldn’t be so. You know.” He certainly wasn’t going to coming about not having to go talk about everything, though.

The billionaire smirked, pulling Steve into the kitchen once the elevator stopped. “Shouldn’t be so what? So me? So great?” Tony laughed, opening the fridge and tossing a bunch of shit onto the counter. And missing most of the throws. Steve sat at the table when Bruce encouraged him to, not wanting Steve to end up lightheaded from standing too long with such low blood sugar.

“Tony, the hell are you doing?” Clint asked, sitting at one of the barstools. Tony was utterly focused just like when he was in the lab, only now it was bent over the stove instead of over a blowtorch.

“Making my signature casserole. Well, it’s not actually mine, and there’s a reason I don’t ever cook, but Steve-O needs to eat!” As he said this he whipped his spatula to point to Steve, sending food flying at the captain. Steve jerked and then laughed, despite looking concerned.

“Tony, I don’t really trust you in the kitchen…”

“Nonsense! I got this!” Tony insisted. Bruce laughed as well, coming to make food as well. Natasha went to help while Thor sat with Steve at the table.

“I’ll make my pancakes for you, Steve, you love those right??” Bruce said, already making them anyways.

Tony smacked Bruce’s ass with the spatula, earning a yelp. “You won’t show me up! Your damn pancakes are gonna pale in comparison to this casserole!”

Natasha glanced to what Tony was… _trying_ to prepare, and asked, “Aren’t you making the ingredients to a pot pie?”

Tony paused, staring at his pot. “What’s the difference?”

Clint and Steve burst into laughter, and Thor joined them when he saw the near pout on Tony’s face. Even Nat was chuckling.

“What did I say???” Tony shouted.

“Just hand me the flour, Tony!” Bruce said, holding out his hand. He ended up with a face full of it instead.

“Wash that spatula too, that shit’s not sanitary after you used it as a damn paddle!” Clint said.

Steve ended up cackling, unable to catch his breath before something made him laugh again. As Bruce and Tony started throwing even more food and shoving each other while they tried to stir and flip their food on the stove, Steve found his eyes watering. His laughs soon turned into hiccups, and before he knew it the captain was crying. Thor noticed when Steve rubbed furiously at his eyes, still smiling.

“Steven??”

The others looked to him, now concerned. Steve shook his head though, smiling even as tears dripped from his eyes. “Sorry, s-sorry, no, I’m just…” he laughed again, feeling like his chest might explode. It was such a different feeling than usual, usually he felt as if it would implode, which was much more painful. This, though, felt…so light, so amazing.

Steve rubbed roughly at his eyes again, frustrated by his tear ducts and having no control over them. “I’m just happy. And. Touched. Thank you for….”

His baby blues spilled over once again, and his chest ended up hitching in a sob. He didn’t deserve all this, but they weren’t giving up on him, and…and…

_“Thank you.”_

No one would admit there wasn’t a dry eye in the room.

“Of course, Cap,” Tony said. Clint snickered.

“Tony might be being nice, but his cooking still might kill you, S— ow!!” Clint yelled as Tony’s spatula flew through the air, slapping him in the face.

“Shut it, Legolas! I’m not that much of a mess in the kitchen! Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, remember? I can handle using a stove!”

“Which would explain why it’s boiling over, right?” Nat asked calmly. Tony turned back to his pot.

“Fuck!”

Thor bellowed with laughter, smacking Steve on the back so hard that the chair beneath him broke, sending the captain to the ground. Steve ended up holding his abdomen, now on the floor, laughing too hard to get back up.

******

Dinner was half pancakes, half very messy but tasty pot pies. Tony threatened to kick someone out every time they mentioned the burnt mess he’d left the stove and oven.

Steve was so full his stomach hurt. Every time he’d stopped eating, Natasha had nudged him, letting him know he hadn’t eaten enough yet. The blond was now laying with his head in her lap, her skilled fingers weaving through his hair. Steve had been embarrassed when she’d first tugged him to lay there, but…it was warm in her lap. And well, he couldn’t be blamed for not moving, he was far too full to be bothered to move.

As Tony and Clint started a video game, Steve spoke up again. “Thank you. All of you. And for dinner.”

“Of course, Steve,” Bruce said, smiling gently. Steve shook his head though.

“No, I mean it. I’m gonna get better for you guys, you’ll see. I have to.”

Clint glanced to the captain. “Not that I’m not happy with the turn of heart, but where’d it come from?”

Steve smiled a little. “You all deserve better. And I need to be able to help others again too. So I’ll get better for you. Be better for you.”

Thor seemed greatly pleased by that. “Those are the spirits, Captain! But fret not, you are already more than enough for us. You can be no better, only healthier!”

Bruce chuckled. “Agreed.”

“Point Break’s got it!” Tony declared. Thor grinned even as he rolled his eyes at the ridiculous nickname.

Steve relaxed fully for the first time in weeks, then, content to watch them play their game and be amongst his team and lovers. For the first time since before the ice, the haze was so light it was barely there at all. The glimpse of what he might be able to feel like all the time gave Steve new hope.

He could get through this, he had his family to help him. It’d be fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> College, stress, writer's block, life. I've been far too exhausted and busy to write for months, I apologize. I would rather wait months to update than put out crappy chapters, though. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who checks back here and leaves comments, they encourage me so much!
> 
> Much love, 
> 
> ~J


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